


Operation SQ

by NetRaptor



Series: NetRaptor's AU Sonicverse [14]
Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (Video Games), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Snow, Survival, Winter, Wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 11:40:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10684551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NetRaptor/pseuds/NetRaptor
Summary: Winter has set in, and Knothole is unexpectedly short on food supplies. But nobody has any food to spare. Spike and Zephyer team up and strike out cross country to find a hidden settlement that might help them, braving harsh winter weather, wolves, and each other.





	1. Chapter 1

"You little creep! I'm gonna GET you!" 

Sonic looked around to see a purple porcupine tear past, a wooden contraption clutched in one hand. A second later a female echidna flew by, a stick held in her fist. "Looks like Spike did it again," Sonic muttered to himself, and hurried after the two. 

The echidna had cornered the porcupine as Sonic jogged up. She was waving the stick in his face and yelling, "You could have killed me with this! What were you DOING? Trying to pin me to the wall?" 

"Whoa, whoa, time out," Sonic interrupted. "Zephyer, what's up with you?" 

The echidna looked at him, eyes like blue fire. "What's up with me? This lunatic just tried to kill me, that's what's up with me!" She shoved the stick into Sonic's hands. It was a straight, sanded stick with feathers glued to one end. The other end was sharpened to a point. The hedgehog looked at the porcupine, eyebrows lifted. "You shot an arrow at her?" 

"It was an accident," Spike said, holding out the thing in his hand for proof. It appeared to be a small bow nailed to a board. "I was trying out my crossbow and it misfired. I'm sorry, Zeff! Really!" 

She glared at him. "That thing hit the wall two inches from my head. Some misfire." She paused to flip her dreadlocks out of her face, then shook her fist under Spike's nose as a final warning. "I'll let you have it if you ever do that again," she growled, then wheeled and stalked away through the snow. 

Spike and Sonic watched her go. Zephyer had been in Knothole nearly a year. Although her warm clothing hid it, she was robotized from the throat down as a permanent reminder of her encounter with Metal Sonic. She also had a terrible temper. 

Sonic looked at his old rival with a crooked grin. "You're lucky you got off so easily." 

"I know," Spike replied, wiping a gloved hand across his forehead. "She said she was gonna put that arrow through my gullet." Sonic handed it to him. "Thanks," Spike said. "It's my only one." 

"Where'd you get a crossbow?" 

"Made it. Found some old diagrams and Tails helped me." Spike grinned. Tails had developed the reputation of 'quite the mechanic' ever since he, Sonic and Knuckles had returned from the coast that summer. 

"Cool!" said Sonic, as proud as if he had built the bow himself. "I didn't know you liked that kind of stuff, Spike." 

"Sure, why not?" 

"Well, catch ya later. It's almost lunchtime." 

Spike watched Sonic crunch away through the village of Knothole, and his smile faded. He had lived there for nearly four years, and he had yet to feel really at home. Sure, he and Sonic had gotten over their differences, but while there were almost every species of Mobian living in the village, there were no other porcupines. His family had been torn apart when Robotnik captured Mobitropolis. Although his story was different from most other refugees', it remained terribly painful to him, and he avoided thinking about it. But he had an odd fondness for Tails, and only Sonic knew it was because the fox reminded him of his younger brother who had been murdered. 

The porcupine slipped his arrow into the crossbow and slid the bolt back until it locked, then aimed at a nearby tree trunk. The arrow thudded into the bark with such force that a bit of snow sifted from the branches. Spike pulled it out, noting it had sank in an entire inch. It probably would have injured Zephyer, if not killed her outright. That girl ... she drove him nuts. She probably wouldn't be so tough if she weren't robotized. He heaved a visible sigh into the cold air. Maybe this evening he could whittle some more arrows. 

* * *

"Sally, come here a minute." Slasher, the winged velociraptor, stood at the door of one of the supply huts. Sally, seeing the worried look on the raptor's face, hurried up and stepped inside. 

The squirrel was struck by the odor of rot and damp. Horrified, she saw a large water stain on the ceiling and rafters, and that the crates of food supplies had gotten wet and moulded. "Slash, what happened?" 

"Remember that rainstorm we had last week?" Slasher replied grimly. "When the main shed had a hole ripped in the roof? We carried everything over here. Unbeknownst to me, this shed's roof leaks." 

"It never did before!" Sally exclaimed. "The wind must have damaged it, too." She looked at the crates of spoiled food. "What are we gonna do?" 

Slasher shifted her wings against her sides and sighed softly. "I guess we throw out the bad stuff and see what's left." 

The two knew quite well that more than half the village's winter supplies were housed in that hut. 

After a couple hour's sorting and discarding, the two found that three-fourths of the supplies were unsalvageable. The only things that remained unhurt were the canned goods. 

"I could provide us with fresh meat," Slasher said, leaning sideways against the wall, "but I'd have to run myself ragged to do it. There's not much game around here. I guess we have enough food to last until next month if we stretch it ..." She looked at Sally with one green eye. 

Sally looked back at her from her seat on an overturned crate. "Maybe the other bands could help us out. You know, loan us supplies." 

Slasher tapped her teeth together. "We could try that, I suppose. We'd better tell the Freedom Fighters tonight. Don't let on to the villagers that anything's the matter. We don't want to alarm them unless it's serious." Deep inside, Slasher was fearful. Knothole was the band that always produced a surplus in food supplies. Find supplies elsewhere this time of year would be a desperately difficult task. 

* * *

As dusk fell in shades of blue, word spread that Slasher and Sally were hosting a Freedom Fighters-only meeting in the community cabin. One by one the band straggled in and sat down. Spike was one of the last to arrive, a handful of twigs and a knife in one hand. He took a seat near Sonic and Tails. "What's up?" he asked them, sighting along a stick and beginning to whittle away at it. Sonic shrugged. "We don't know, but Sal sure looks worried." Slasher, however, didn't, and was off in a corner joking with a few of the Freedom Fighters. It was this fact that reassured everyone who entered--if Slasher wasn't worried, then it couldn't be anything serious. 

At last all the Freedom Fighters were assembled and waiting, curious. Slasher nodded to Sally, who stepped up on the fireplace hearth and cleared her throat. "All right everyone, listen up," she began. "Today we checked the main supply shed, and the roof has leaked and spoiled almost everything." She paused and looked around the room. Every eye was fixed on her. She went on, "We have enough food for maybe another month, but there is no way we'll make it to spring." She looked at Slasher, who stood. The raptor was tall enough for everyone to see her without her needing to stand on something. 

"After talking it over with Sally," Slasher said, gazing around the room, "I've come up with a plan. It's not much, and it'll require a lot of work. To avoid scaring the villagers, we'll call it Operation SQ--Survival Quest." 

Everyone listened closely as Slasher explained that groups of three or four would journey to all the neighboring villages and Freedom Fighter bands, to see if anyone had a surplus they would be willing to share. It was quite simple, if not for the winter storms that hit about once a week. Each team would have a certain route and destination, and carry lots of protective gear. Slasher herself would fly eastward to a band they had formed an alliance with, but was too far away to hike to. 

* * *

Spike, Sonic, Zephyer and Tails were on one of the teams. Zephyer and Spike exchanged an icy glance and resolved to stay away from each other. Sonic and Tails, knowing the cold war between the two, tried to break the ice by demonstrating snowshoes and helping load backpacks. They met at dawn on the path leading out of the village. 

"Okay," Sonic said, holding out a piece of paper with directions scribbled on it. "We're going to Cedarwood, about ten miles from here as the raptor flies. We'll cross the river, hike west until we hit the highway, then follow that south until we get to Castle Creek. Cedarwood's just a minute's run from there." 

"If you say so," said Zephyer dubiously. She was wearing black ski pants and an insulated jacket over her metal, only her silver hands and feet showing. Her red dreadlocks hung free in the frosty air. "How long will it take us?" 

"All day," Sonic said cheerfully. "Let's juice!" 

The four shouldered their heavy packs (they were already wearing their snowshoes) and trudged down the path in single file. 

Sonic felt a surge of pride. He was leading an expedition into the heart of the frozen woods on a quest that must not fail. This would be much more fun than any game. He glanced at the leaden sky that hid the rising sun from view. They'd probably have snow by noon. 

Behind Sonic was Spike, limping along on his snowshoes, trying to keep from stumbling and humiliating himself. Why couldn't they just walk normally? The path was firm enough, he guessed. He had left behind his crossbow, but not his knife. He could whittle some of the arrows he had brought along. Why did Zephyer have to come, anyway? She wasn't a Freedom Fighter, not really. His lower jaw thrust out, as it always did when he felt peevish. 

Tails trotted lightly behind Spike, spirits high. Man, this was fun! The only thing that could have been better was if he could have flown them there himself in the Tornado. But the biplane would have had nowhere to land and refuel, Slasher had pointed out. His pack was heavy, but he was strong for his age. He had even brought along his jet anklets acquired on his previous adventure in case he needed to do some speed-hovering. Who cared about the weight of a backpack on a hike like this? 

Zephyer brought up the rear, walking carefully on her snowshoes. They didn't have snow on her home planet; just dust and rock. The cold was unbearable--how could Sonic, Tails and the jerk with the purple hair stand it? They didn't even have the extra protection of metal! Well, if they could bear it, then so could she. Odd stuff, snow. It fell from the sky in silent flakes, like rain in slow motion, and was crunchy, hard and slippery all at once. The food problem; now that was scary. Like those years the agricultural domes had been damaged by the tornado storms, and they never had enough to eat. No one but the leaders, who made everyone work like slaves while THEY never went hungry. At least they didn't have kind of tyranny in Knothole. 

After a while the river came into view, a mass of black ice sprinkled with grey snow. "C'mon," Sonic called to his team, stepping fearlessly onto the ice. "It's thick enough to walk on. Don't worry if it cracks. It's when water starts oozing up that you're sunk." He flashed a grin over his shoulder, but only Tails grinned back. 

The ice was slippery and only an inch or two thick. Below was the muffled sound of running water as the river continued to flow beneath. The ice was paper thin in spots, and air holes gaped darkly here and there. Sonic confidently led the way across the thinnest part, the ice cracking and creaking ominously beneath his weight. The other three followed his lead wordlessly, trying to deafen themselves to the sounds. But in spite of all the threatenings of the frozen river, they made it to the far bank unscathed. 

None of the villagers had been across the river in a while, and the snow was unbroken. The four trampled a path with their broad snowshoes, Sonic working hardest of all in the lead. 

They hiked through the silent woods for hours, hardly speaking to each other, saving their breath. At ten o' clock the snow began, drawing a veil around them. Sonic began halting every fifteen minutes to check his compass; it would be easy to get lost. 

At noon they halted and ate a ravenous lunch from their knapsacks, then Sonic led them on. They were headed south now, into the heart of the Great Forest. Sonic was pretty sure of the way, but just doubtful enough to be more careful than usual. 

It was four o' clock and beginning to fade toward twilight when they struck Castle Creek. Relieved, they trudged along the iced banks, looking about for the village. Before long they smelled woodsmoke, then were hailed by a sentry. "Who goes?" 

"Sonic and his group!" the hedgehog called back. "From Knothole." 

"Oh yeah," the voice said. "Slasher said you were coming. Go on in." 

A dense hedge ahead turned out to be the wall that screened Cedarwood from sight. Sonic pushed open a wooden gate, and the four stepped inside. 

It looked a lot like Knothole, with huts and cabins erected in two ragged rows, blanketed with snow, lights shining cheerily from windows. A few villagers moved about here and there, and looked curiously at the strangers as they passed by. The four waved, weary but cheerful, anticipating a warm bed and hot food. 

The leader of the Cedarwood band was a heavy-set bear with a robotized right arm. He welcomed them into the largest hut and had them sit by the fire and thaw. "I'm Steelpaw," he told them. "Welcome to Cedarwood, fellow Freedom Fighters. What can I do for you?" 

Sonic wasted no time. He explained about the accident with the supplies, and their need for more to last them through the winter. The bear looked grave when Sonic finished. "I'm sorry," he told them, "but we only have enough food to last us through the winter, and that on strict rationing. Crops were bad this year. We thought that certainly it would be better down by the river ..." Steelpaw trailed off. The four looked at each other, flagging hopes evident in their faces. "I'm sorry," the bear said again. "Now, we'd better see to your accommodation for the night." 

The four were put in a large guest hut. Sonic, Tails and Spike shared one room, and Zephyer took the other. They ate a disappointed meal of watery soup, supplemented with food they had brought from home. Then they sat in a semicircle facing the crackling fire and talked dispiritedly. 

"This is only one village," Tails said. "The others probably had better luck than we did. Could be that we'll get back and--" 

"Or not," Spike interrupted. "We might find that nobody had food to spare. It was too dry this summer." 

"Plenty of water down in Sapphire City," Sonic muttered. "Too bad Chaos didn't flood this area with rainwater." 

"Is there ANYWHERE we could get more supplies?" Zephyer asked. It seemed incredible to her that they were living on a populated planet and couldn't find enough food. On her planet, the echidnas and the giant swifts were the only inhabitants, and the swifts did not farm. "What about all those cities? What about Riverbase?" 

"You can't get to Riverbase in the winter," Sonic said glumly, cupping his chin in his hands and staring into the flames. "It's too far and too rough. Maybe Slasher could get through, but she couldn't begin to haul back the stuff we need." 

"If you'd like to walk, go ahead," Spike told Zephyer sarcastically. 

"Why don't you go hunt us some food with that bow and arrow of yours?" she retorted. 

"Oh, shut up," Tails said patiently, as if addressing two pups. "You don't have to fight ALL the time." The fox looked at Sonic. "What about Knuckles? Could he help?" 

The hedgehog shook his head. "Naw. Food's not one of his big worries and he doesn't save much more than he needs for the winter." 

The four stared into the fire for a while without speaking. Spike broke the silence. "What's up north?" 

"The Ice Cap range and wolves," Sonic replied promptly. 

"What about that fortress of Robians?" 

"What about it?" 

"Well--" 

"Yeah, right," Tails broke in. "Slasher told me about them. They keep to themselves and kill anyone who so much as sneezes within twenty miles. _I_ think it's really one of Robotnik's bases." 

Spike opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again. No use arguing that that was where his parents had fled to. 

"They'd have food," Sonic commented, enjoying his depressed mood. "I've heard they farm all the little valleys up there. Lots of lakes and stuff." 

Shortly after that they went to bed and snuffed out the lights. Spike lay in his sleeping bag in the floor and gazed at the dancing orange light on the ceiling. He wanted to see his family again to badly it was kind of a physical ache. He might even have an excuse-- to get food supplies for Knothole. He could strike out on his own; no, no, that would be dumb. What if something happened and there was nobody to help him? Maybe he and Sonic could go. Or Tails. Tails might go with him. 

The porcupine put himself to sleep outlining plans for a march into the north. 

Zephyer lay in her sleeping bag on the bed, gazing out her open door into the firelit other room. The boys were asleep, or so she guessed from the multiple snores rattling the shutters. She could not sleep properly when she was this tired. Alone in the dark, her defenses against the world came down. Her mind drifted into memories of her own family--her younger brother and sister, he mother and father. Life was hard on X-R7, but she had not realized how hard until she saw Mobius's greenery and mild climate. Even now, after a year, she found herself disliking it. She was a desert creature, born and bred. The cold was something alien, and she could not bear it long. She wanted dry, flaming heat--not this humid stuff of the Great Forest. She wanted to go home. But going home was impossible.


	2. Chapter 2

Only two memorable things happened the next day. 

The youngsters of Cedarwood had seen foxes, porcupines and hedgehogs before, but never an echidna. They swarmed around Zephyer, looking up at her with round eyes, touching her clothes and patting her fiery hair. She went down on one knee in the crowd and talked to them patiently, then picked up a toddler who had escaped from his mother. As she handed him back to his mom, the baby sneezed in Zephyer's face. All the kids laughed, and the squirrel apologized. "I'm sorry! Baby has a cold and shouldn't be outside." 

Zephyer grinned and wiped her face. "No harm done." 

Sonic, Tails and Spike watched all this from a distance with surprise. Zephyer was so hot-tempered with her own age group, they had not expected her to be gentle with little kids. It had made her happy, for she was in high spirits as they trudged out of the village on snowshoes. 

The day was clear as crystal and stunningly bright, but twenty degrees below. The four made good time back toward Knothole, simply trying to stay warm. They arrived back at the river by two o'clock, and Sonic led the way across. 

The ice had thickened with the cold and barely creaked as they crossed. Sonic paused at the center, where it had been so thin the day before. "Rock solid!" he said, stamping one foot. "Maybe we can get Rotor to build us some ice skates!" He turned to walk on, stumbled, and fell through the ice into the black water below. 

The snowfall of the day before had covered a large airhole with a thin layer of snow. When Sonic stepped on it, the crust gave way. The other three saw him fall and heard the splash, and ran to the hole with cries of concern. 

The hedgehog bobbed to the surface like a cork, gasping, "Great moons of Mobius! Cold! Cold!" He floundered wildly and grabbed at the rim of ice. Three pairs of hands reached out to grab him. They hauled him out of the killing water and onto the solid ice. Sonic had been in the water barely a minute, but already his heavy clothing was soaked and his teeth were chattering like jackhammers. "Quick," Tails exclaimed, "we gotta get him home or he'll freeze to death!" 

Zephyer took one arm, Spike took the other, and Tails grabbed the back of Sonic's jacket and spun his tails. "Go!" the fox commanded, and the three took off. Tails drove them on by activating his jet anklets. "Hurry, hurry!" 

"We are!" Spike gasped, trying not to fall over his own feet. 

They fled across the river's frozen expanse and onto the hard trail under the trees on the other side. 

A lone figure sat in the shadows beneath the trees in a small, neatly-made snow fort, invisible to all but the keenest eyes. He had seen the whole thing and was laughing, very quietly, to himself. "Sonic, you poor fool," he muttered in amusement. "I don't know why your kind wasn't exterminated ages ago." 

He sat back in the snow, elbows grating metallically against it. A robot could sit for hours in the snow and never feel the cold like an organism would. He had staked himself by the river to watch the comings and goings of Knothole village. The data would be useful at a later date. 

Receiving transmission. 

"Oh really?" the robot muttered. No one had contacted him in a long, long time. He had betrayed too many companions and clients. Curiosity circuits activating a bit, he opened his internal transmission channel. "Yes?" 

"Greetings, Mecha bot four." 

"Ditto, Mecha bot two. Well well, it isn't like you to contact ME, of all droids. What do you want?" Robo Knuckles had not spoken to Metal Sonic since the fall of Robotropolis. The two robots cordially hated each other. 

"What is your current location?" 

Robo Knux leaned against the wall of his snow fort and placed a hand behind his head. Mecha would love this. "One point three kilometers from Knothole village." 

He could almost see Mecha's red eyes brighten fifty watts. "You ARE? Do you intend to level it?" 

"Not at the moment," Robo Knux replied in the lazy tone he knew his rival hated. "It isn't in my current best interests. What'd you call for? To check up on your poor brother?" 

Metal Sonic's voice had a hiss in it. "YOU are NOT my BROTHER." He paused and seemed to get a grip on himself, for when he spoke again his voice was calm. "I need your help." 

"Oh yeah?" Robo Knux scoffed. "Since when have YOU ever needed MY help, Mecha bot two?" 

"Shut up and listen. Since Chaos was defeated, Master has commissioned me to build him a weapon that will not fail. I need you to find the android called Kardot. She is somewhere in the Mobitropolis valley, within two hundred miles of your current position." 

"Kardot?" Robo Knux said scornfully, green eyes flashing yellow unintentionally. "What kind of a stupid name is Kardot?" 

"Do not say that to her face," Mecha purred. In all conversations, the robot who succeeded in irritating the other scored a point. So far they were even. "She is as unpredictable as yourself." 

A jab, but Robo Knux ignored it. 

"She came to Dr. Robotnik for repairs. He embedded a tracking device in her system, of the same high frequency we used in Robotropolis. You should be able to locate her that way." 

"Clever," said Robo Knux, cutting a double furrow in the snow with his knuclaws. "What do you want her for?" 

"I need her schematics," Mecha replied. "And I want you to bring her to me." 

"Me?" Robo Knux said, startled. "Why do you need me? Spare parts?" 

Metal Sonic gave a digital chuckle. He had unsettled his rival-- another point in his favor. "No," he said. "I need the battle information stored in your OS. You have the most advanced battle programming of any robot in the world." 

Robo Knux saw a chance to get under Mecha's skin. "Even better than yours, correct?" 

It was a subtle way of making Metal Sonic admit Robo Knux's superiority, and they both knew it. Mecha hesitated, then submitted. "Correct." 

A point in Robo Knux's favor. They were again even. 

"My construction date is set for this March," Metal Sonic continued. "You must bring Kardot to me before then." 

"Where are you?" Robo Knux asked, gloating over having made Mecha admit his inferior programming. 

"The Final Egg ground base, near Sapphire City," Mecha replied coolly. "You are a Mecha bot. You will be able to locate us." He paused, as if about to sign off, but added as an afterthought, "Do not harm Kardot. She is very valuable. Her technology far surpasses anything you or I possess." 

"Is that so?" Robo Knux asked. "What are her weapon systems?" 

"She has none that I know of. I meant that she could be mistaken for an organism, so close is she to a biological body. Be gentle with her." 

"Don't worry," Robo Knux said, waving a hand, although Mecha could not see it. "I'm always careful with prisoners." 

"See that you are. Mecha bot two, out." 

* * *

Sonic huddled in a pile of blankets before the fireplace in the community hut, teeth still chattering, spines drooping and wet. "Are you sure you're okay?" Tails asked anxiously. 

The hedgehog nodded. "I'm ok-k-kay, really." He tried to stand up to prove it, but yelped and fell back. "My ankle!" he moaned, clutching his right foot. Tails and Zephyer pounced on his foot, and Zephyer got there first. She eased his shoe and sock off, and found his ankle already discolored and starting to swell. The echidna prodded it experimentally. Sonic twitched and yelled, "OW!" He jerked his foot away and looked at her with the wounded air of one who has been slapped for no reason. 

"It's not broken," she told him, pretending to ignore his glare. "Let me get something to wrap it up with." 

"Forget it," Sonic growled, hiding his foot under the blankets. "It doesn't hurt THAT bad ... oh, ouch!" He thrust his foot out again, for the touch of the blankets was painful. 

"Stay here, tough guy," Zephyer grinned. "Tails, keep an eye on this loser. I'm gonna get somebody to help out." She jogged out of the hut and into the brilliant sunlight outdoors. 

Spike passed her as he entered with an armload of firewood. "He twisted his ankle when he fell," Zephyer called to him over her shoulder. Spike nodded and went in. He stacked the wood on the hearth, watching Sonic and Tails out of the corner of his eye, and departed for another load. Great. Tails was playing nursemaid to Sonic and would never go on a trip now. Sonic couldn't go, even if he wanted to. Spike loaded his arms with another stack of wood and thought. He could go alone. His biggest fear was of being caught and brought back within hours, but Sonic couldn't run, and Slasher was away. Yes ... Slasher posed the biggest threat to his plans, with her hunting abilities. But she would be away for at least a week, she had said. Spike cast a glance at the clear sky. He had noticed that a glaringly clear day, lately, meant more snow the next. He could sneak away in a snowstorm and leave no trail, not even for Slasher's nose. 

* * *

That evening a great cloudbank smoked out in the northwest, and the villagers scurried to and fro, closing shutters, stacking wood, carrying tools indoors. Sonic hobbled pitifully about on a crutch, his right foot bound in bandages. He accepted everyone's pity with, "It's not THAT bad," or, "It's not very painful--Owwww!!" Once left alone again, he would grin secretly to himself. He would get a lot of mileage out of this one. 

Darkness fell, made ever darker as the stormclouds advanced. Spike watched it with a small smile. He could actually leave tonight! 

He was startled out of an hour's thoughtful packing by a sharp rap on his door. Hurriedly, with a touch of panic, Spike threw everything that was on his bed into his knapsack, zipped it shut and kicked it under his bed. Then he composed himself, drew a breath and opened the door. 

Zephyer stepped in with a little gasp. "Man it's cold! They said this storm looks like a three-day blizzard." She pulled something from under her coat and tossed it on the bed. "You left your weapon in Tails' hut." Her voice had a note of sarcasm, Spike noticed as he picked up his crossbow and set it on a shelf. 

"Thanks, Zeff," he said as she turned away and extended her hands to the fire. 

"Gee," she said, pretending to ignore his last statement. "I don't know how you guys can stand the winters here. I should change my name to Sam McGee." She straightened up and turned to warm her back. Spike seated himself stiffly on the edge of his bed. Visiting with Zephyer was the last thing he wanted to do, especially if he wanted to leave tonight. 

The echidna's eyes traced around the room, missing nothing. Spike unobtrusively placed his feet on the floor to hide his knapsack from her. "So," she said, "how come you haven't been out there helping us get ready for the storm?" 

"I have been getting ready," Spike said without thinking. "Uh, I mean, in here. You know." 

The coverup wasn't good enough. Zephyer's eyes narrowed. "WE'VE been getting ready for a storm. What are YOU getting ready for?" 

"The storm," Spike said uncomfortably. It was the truth, wasn't it? 

The echidna gave him an odd look and gazed hard at his feet. "What are you hiding?" 

"Nothing." 

"If it's nothing, let me see." Quick as a springing cat she bounded across the room, crouched and grabbed his knapsack. She glanced at it and tossed it on his bed. "Where are you going?" 

"Nowhere." 

"That's a lot of stuff to take nowhere." She folded her arms with a clink and faced him. "Spike, are you running away?" 

"No." He folded his arms, too. 

"Don't lie. You're taking your stuff and leaving in the storm, aren't you?" 

Her close guess unnerved him. "Yes, I mean, no! I'm gonna come back." He was beginning to hate her. "Why can't you keep your nose out of other people's business?" 

"Because you're doing something stupid," she snapped right back. "Go out in that storm tonight and you'll freeze to death." 

"Says who?" 

"Says Sally." 

"I don't give a hang what she says, I'm going!" 

"Why? Where are you going?" 

Spike hesitated a fraction of a second. "To find my parents." 

Zephyer reacted the way he thought she would and hoped she wouldn't. "HA! At least my parents are still alive." 

"Mine are too alive! At least MINE are on Mobius ... unlike some folks I know." 

That one stopped her cold. She stared at him in grief and fury, unable to think of a suitable retort. Spike stared back, aware that he was trembling. After a moment of silence, he sat on his bead, and she sat on the hearth. "I'm going," he said stubbornly. "And nobody's gonna stop me." 

The fight had gone out of Zephyer. She switched into reasoning mode. "Why don't you get somebody to go with you?" 

"Who would?" Spike said bitterly. "It's a wild goose chase. I was gonna ask Sonic, but he hurt his ankle, and Tails sure as heck won't leave Sonic now. Spark has too much SENSE, and I wouldn't ask Serena. If I asked Slasher, she'd go herself and make me stay, and come back saying that Mom and Dad weren't there." His voice was rising. "Of course not! Nobody would know who 'Spike' is, and I've never told anybody my real name. Mom and Dad never heard my nickname, so I have to go." He pointed to his chest. "Me! Nobody else! And if I have to go alone, then I will!" He stood, angry and panting, furious, facing Zephyer. 

Strangely enough, as his temper had heated, hers had cooled. She gazed at him now, unruffled, clear-eyed, unreadable. 

Spike turned away and flopped on his bed. He couldn't read her-- he had never been able to read her. He braced himself for the logical reply to his tirade. It came. "I'm gonna tell Sally." 

He leaped off the bed in a whirl of spines. "No you're not." 

Zephyer had risen and stood defiantly facing him. "Yeah? Who's gonna stop me, huh?" 

Spike sprang to the door and locked it. "You're not leaving until you promise not to tell what I'm doing." He half expected her to jump him and make him open the door, but she did not. She shifted her weight to one foot and a crafty look came into her eyes. "Okay, I'll promise, but on one condition." 

"Yeah?" 

"I go with you." 

The argument lasted another twenty minutes, but was finally resolved as Spike agreed to take Zephyer along. "I'm bringing my crossbow," he warned. She smiled, and her left arm morphed into a laser pistol. "And I'm bringing my gun. So don't get cute." 

Spike gave her a list of things to pack--he was fastidious about such things--and escorted her out of his hut at last. As the door closed on the chill night air, the porcupine leaned against it and ran a hand through his spines. He was bringing the one person in the world he didn't get along with on a secret trip. "You're an idiot," he told himself as he reopened his sack and looked at the contents. 

* * *

"So how far are we?" 

Zephyer was wrapped in two blankets and her sleeping bag with only her eyes and nose visible. It was dim twilight outside their tent, but the heavy clouds still hung low and poured snow on the valley. They had made camp at dawn, too cold to take another step. 

Spike, too, was wrapped in blankets and shivering, spikes rattling slightly. He knew they had not made good time, what with the darkness and the blowing, disorienting snow. It wouldn't do to let Zephyer know that, though. "Several miles, at least," he said, breath hanging on the icy air. "We'll do better once the storm lets up a little." 

Neither said anything for a few moments, and the canvas of the tent flapped about them. Spike touched one of his spines and squeezed the water off it. Good, they were finally defrosting. He glanced at their packs in the corner of the tent, snow-crusted like a couple of rocks, and thought of food. He thought wistfully of a cup of something hot, then decided against it. A search party would be sure of finding campfire remains only a couple miles from the village. They could do with cold rations for now. 

He pulled out a bag of biscuits and a can of beans. Zephyer emerged from her cocoon. "How much food do we have?" 

Spike considered a vague reply, and decided to shoot straight with her. He was stuck with her as a teammate, after all. "Three bags of biscuits, three big jars of beans and four little ones, some potatoes, eight cups of flour and five pounds of bacon." 

She looked at him a moment, as if waiting for him to go on, then said, "That's all?" 

Spike nodded. He braced himself for an outburst, but to his surprise she only shrugged. "I guess we can't expect much with the village short on food. It might look like a lot in a few more weeks." She held up her right hand and shook melting show out of the joints in her metal fingers. 

Spike estimated their trip would take two and a half weeks, but admitted that it was a conservative estimate as he had no idea what the mountains would be like. He and Zephyer figured out how much food they should eat a day, then dug into their rations. 

"What about water?" Zephyer asked. "Where will we get that?" 

Spike looked at her to see if she were serious, then held up a chunk of snow. "This isn't frozen water, huh?" 

She glared at him. "I'm from the desert. Sue me." 

After an hour, feeling refreshed, if not warmed, by their break, they broke camp and set out again. Spike went first to break trail and watching his compass, and Zephyer followed along behind, head bowed. Spike knew she disliked the cold, but couldn't say he liked it himself. This was the kind of cold that would kill you if you kept still for too long. He wondered what the temperature was and wished he had brought a thermometer. 

The day passed in a haze of snow, black trees and ice. That night the two struggled to set up the tent and ate another cold meal, as Spike felt it still wasn't safe to light a fire. Then they buried themselves in blankets in the tent and fell into dreamless sleep. 

The next day pass much the same as the previous one. The storm did not abate, and the two struggled north, two puny insects pitted against the elements. That evening the two were drugged and sleepy with the cold, and Spike, afraid of hypothermia, lit a fire. Warm food worked wonders on their spirits, and Spike whittled arrows for an hour before going to bed. 

The third day began the same as the two before, but this time there was a change. The wind and snow dropped, and the clouds lightened. By that afternoon a clear winter sun emerged and beamed down on the white landscape. The air warmed a little, and Spike and Zephyer, encouraged, covered a good twenty miles that day. 

That night the two pitched their tent in the shelter of an evergreen grove. When Zephyer questioned this, Spike explained that surely, with the abating of the storm, Slasher would be out searching. "And after coming this far, I ain't going back," he concluded with a glint in his eyes. 

But they hiked for another two days before anything happened, and it wasn't Slasher who found them.


	3. Chapter 3

Slasher did not return to Knothole until the day after the blizzard, cold, eyes bloodshot, and weary. And even then, Spike and Zephyer had not been missed. During the storm most of the villagers simply stayed shut up in their huts. After the storm broke, the village was so busy cleaning up fallen limbs, chopping firewood and maintaining roofs, there was no time to count heads. 

Slasher, Sally and Sonic met in the community hut the evening Slasher arrived. Sonic's ankle had healed enough for him to wear his shoes, but he still used a crutch because it hurt to put his full weight on it. "I'm glad I didn't break it," Sonic said, seating himself on the floor. "It's a pain! Here I am, the fastest dude in the world, reduced to a walk." 

Slasher gave him a toothy grin. "From what I've heard, it hasn't bored you until today." 

"Yeah, well ..." 

The two turned their attention to Sally, who was sitting stiffly in a nearby chair. She looked at them and bit her lower lip. "Slasher, all of the other teams came back with bad reports. Nobody can spare the food. Did you turn up anything?" 

To Sally's and Sonic's surprise, Slasher nodded. "Kind of," she said. "The village I went to had a reasonable surplus, and offered to loan us five hundred pounds of wheat. It's not much, but it's better than nothing." She trailed off and looked at Sally hopelessly. 

The squirrel drooped. "Slasher, we both know it's not enough. Not for everyone." 

The big raptor lowered her head. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I don't know what else to do." 

The three sat in silence a few moments, despair weighing heavily on their spirits. Then the outer door opened and Tails's voice called, "Anybody seen Spike and Zephyer?" 

A search ensued. Their huts were empty, various items (such as snowshoes) were missing, and nobody could recall seeing either of them since before the storm. 

"I could see Spike striking out on his own," Sonic said to Slasher as they searched the village, "but taking Zephyer? Those two are like oil and water! Hey, I know, maybe she saw him leaving and he killed her and hid her in the snow!" 

"Or visa versa," Slasher replied, only half serious. "Or maybe they didn't go together at all. But where would they go?" The big raptor paused on the outskirts of the village and gazed into the quiet woods. Sonic stood beside her on his crutch. Slasher thought aloud. "They could have thought of someplace that would have supplies, but why wouldn't they tell someone? Or they could have run away, but to where? Or ..." Her voice took on a mischievous tone. " ... maybe they eloped." 

That struck Sonic as funny. He whooped and slapped his thigh. "Spike and Zephyer!" he cackled. "That's a good one!" He laughed for a full minute and finally straightened up. "Seriously," he said, wiping his eyes, "what do you think they did?" 

Slasher, who had stood and grinned as Sonic had laughed, sobered and looked at the evening sky. "I don't know what to think. I don't know either of them well enough to predict what they'd do." The raptor looked down at the hedgehog, green eyes suddenly tired. "You get along with Spike pretty well. Has he ever mentioned anything like this?" 

Sonic looked at the snow and searched his memory. "Not about Operation SQ." 

"Is there any reason at all that he would sneak off? Friends, family? 

"All his friends are here, and he lived in Mobitropolis before ..." Sonic blanched. Something had occurred to him. 

Slasher saw his face change and perked up. "What? What is it?" 

Sonic stared at her, but it was not at the raptor his eyes were focused upon. "A long time ago he told me about his parents. They were partially robotized and escaped ... and he said they ... they fled to the Robian stronghold." 

This time it was Slasher who flinched. "Oh. I didn't know that. Do you think he might ...?" 

Sonic was thinking of the conversation his team had had in the cabin in Cedarwood. He had told Spike (not seriously, of course) that the Robians might have supplies. That queer look on the porcupine's face ... Sonic looked at Slasher and slowly nodded. "I wouldn't put it past him." 

Slasher clenched her teeth and kicked the snow, then looked at Sonic again. "But why would he take Zephyer, of all people? That's the most hare-brained part of this whole hare-brained scheme." She sighed and moved away a step. "Why Zephyer?" she repeated under her breath. 

"Should we go after them?" Sonic asked. 

Slasher shrugged her wings pessimistically. "There's not much chance they survived the storm, but I'll take a look around." Her white teeth glinted in the twilight. "If they head north like I think they will, they'll run smack into Lobo and the Wild Wolves." 

"Who?" 

But the big raptor was already striding away into the village. Sonic hobbled after her. 

* * *

All the next day Slasher winged her way over the countryside, often with the sharp-eyed Tails on her back, but neither of them saw a thing. Neither guessed that Spike and Zephyer were already much further from Knothole than they guessed ... 

* * *

The porcupine and echidna were more than sixty miles from home. After the blizzard, the snow had settled and formed a crust solid enough to walk on. The two traveled quickly, the Ice Cap mountain range in the northeast growing taller and wider all the time. 

The first night after the storm, Spike noticed that Zephyer was very irritable. He couldn't say or do anything without having her snap at him. At first he thought it was merely because she was overtired, and she would lighten up with a little food and some rest. But to his surprise, and refused to eat supper and crawled into the tent before the winter twilight had faded. 

The next morning she surprised him by sleeping in. One thing that had always annoyed him was her fondness for rising early and smugly awakening him. Sleeping in wasn't like her. He made a lot of noise poking up the fire and making breakfast, hoping it would wake her up. It didn't. At last, really worried, he crawled into the tent to check on her. 

The echidna was buried from sight under blankets, as usual. Spike had to dig around a bit before he finally located her, half wondering if she had smothered. There she was, and she was still breathing. "Too bad," said the back of his mind. Her cheeks were flushed, but the rest of her face was pale as ash. He shook her shoulder. "Zeff, wake up. Don't pull the 'oh I'm sick' routine." 

Her eyes opened. "Huh? Why are you shaking me?" Her eyes were as glazed as a pair of marbles. She sat up, groaned and made a face. "Oh, I feel terrible. Did you poison me or something?" 

"You didn't eat last night, remember?" Spike was worried, now. Zephyer didn't look good at all. He touched her forehead--burning hot. "Zeff, I think you're sick." 

She lay down again and closed her eyes. "I'm spinning," she said drowsily. "Just let me sleep for a few hours. I can go if I can just rest a little." 

Spike left her alone and walked in circles in their camp, fretting. This was the last thing he needed. Why did she have to get sick now? They would use up valuable rations waiting around. What if she didn't get better? What if she died? He had better not think along those lines. Better think of staying put a couple days. He gazed at their camp. There wasn't much firewood here, and not much cover. If they could just go a few miles more, maybe east a ways, toward the mountains-- He looked up at the mountains, cloaked in fir trees and snow, perhaps thirty miles away. Distances were hard to judge. Anyway, they would need a better spot ... 

In all his plans, hiding from Slasher figured the most highly. He never even thought of Zephyer needing medical attention. And he had no idea of the danger into which he was headed. 

Two hours later he awakened Zephyer. She looked worse, but claimed she felt better. She ate a decent breakfast, helped break camp, then started out with Spike again. 

They had covered barely a mile when her false strength gave out. She simply crumpled under the weight of her pack and lay in the snow, exhausted. Spike swore never to trust an obviously sick person as a judge of their own condition again. He frantically searched the area for a campsite, located a halfway decent one not far away, and helped Zephyer limp to it. She was weak as water, and shivered until her teeth rattled. Spike's mind kept repeating, "Oh great oh great oh great ..." 

But at last they entered a small pine grove Spike had found, and the porcupine raced about, setting up camp. Zephyer sat in the snow, her back propped against a tree, fevered eyes half-closed. She must have felt guilty for falling ill and ruining their trip, for she tried to help by getting things out of her pack that Spike would need. 

It wasn't long before the echidna was bundled away in the tent. Before she dozed off, she murmured, "Spike, you'd better get some firewood and see about food." 

"Don't worry," Spike told her with false cheerfulness. "You get some rest." He pulled a blanket over her, crawled out of the tent and sat in the snow, head in his hands. Wonderful. Spike, you've just become a statistic. You should have never brought her in the first place. We'll be stuck here for days, and phfft, there goes all your plans, your only chance of ever seeing Mom and Dad again ... 

No use sitting there feeling sorry for himself, no matter how satisfying it was. They needed firewood, and food, if he could figure out how to get it. Spike dug out his hatchet, hung it through a belt loop and trudged off to see what he could see. 

Fallen branches provided firewood, collected here and there until he had a sizeable armload. He also stumbled upon a frozen creek. He thought of ice-fishing and mentally sorted though his gear. He just might be able to catch a fish ... fish were good to eat, and he thought he remembered how to clean one. 

His hopes had risen considerably as he walked back to camp, listening to the chickadees in the trees and watching the snow for footprints. There were rabbit tracks once in a while, but little else. Spike had no idea that game could be scarce, or that there might be a reason for it. 

He hadn't an inkling until he saw more tracks--quite different from rabbit tracks. They looked like dog tracks, but if they were, they had been made by a dog of enormous size. He had passed them by and walked on several dozen feet before a thought hit him--wolf tracks? Were there wolves out here? A vision came to him of Zephyer, lying asleep in the tent, and a dark, furry shape creeping up on her ... Spike broke into a wild run. 

The camp was exactly as he had left it, he was relieved to see. Panting, he stacked his armload of wood and checked Zephyer. Sound asleep. Good. Nervous, he lit a fire. Wolves were afraid of fire, weren't they? As he sat near it, warming his hands, he began to rationalize. They had seen no signs of wolves so far. They hadn't heard any. Maybe one wolf had wandered through and left those tracks. Yeah, that was it. Just a fluke thing. They didn't have anything to worry about. 

Zephyer awoke a little after noon, thirsty. Spike melted some snow for her. He told her he was going to try a little fishing, and not to panic if she woke up and found him gone. She nodded, thanked him for the water and burrowed into the blankets again. Spike took a ball of string and a piece of bent metal, and set off for the creek. 

* * *

The sun sank toward the west. The winter forest lay cold and silent under its weak rays, sheltering the runaways' campsite from the air. And in the air, searching with nose and eyes, was Slasher. 

She was combing the valley with the persistence of a search plane, sometimes calling Spike and Zephyer's names. That morning she had discovered one of their campsites not yet erased by the elements, and so had sped on, strengthened by hope that they were still alive. 

But now and for many hours she had flown in silence, content to merely look. She knew from scent markers that she was now in Lobo's territory, and there was a good chance that Spike and Zephyer were too. To call them, perhaps, was to alert him to their presence. 

The big raptor dropped to the earth and folded her wings. Flight was only possible for a couple hours; then her muscles grew stiff with cold and she must rest. She lowered her head and began to sniff, walking in circles to pick up any sort of scent. She passed a tree and paused to sniff it. She snorted--Lobo's mark. If he learned she was here, on the ground ... 

The raptor's head jerked up. Had she heard a sound ...? The trees sighed about her in a breeze, and she relaxed. She normally had no fear of wolves, herself being more than a match for one, but Lobo and his pack were different. According to rumors and stories she had heard, Lobo had once been an average Mobian wolf, and had lived in the suburbs of Mobitropolis. When Robotnik had taken over, Lobo, who had had a different name back then, fled to the woods. But while living in seclusion, fear and hatred had worked a change on him. He had relapsed; that is, returned to animal ways. He ran wild, hunting for his food, howling at the moon and leading a pack of the meanest wolves this side of the Dark Mountains. He had become a thing of legend. Some people said he was a werewolf and would walk on two legs and speak cordially one moment, then tear out your throat the next. 

Slasher was afraid of him. 

She thought perhaps she might tangle with him if her friends were in danger, but never on her own. Not with Lobo. 

She came to a little creek, jumped over it-- 

A loud jangle, cold jaws clamped around her leg! She instinctively sprang aside, but was pulled up sharply by the thing on her foot. She leaped for the sky, tearing the air with claws and wings, then dropped to the snow, doubled up and kicked at whatever it was, snarling. After a moment she realized she was not encountering warm fur, but cold metal. She stopped struggling, and lifted her panting head to see what had happened. 

Locked around her leg, between her foot and her ankle joint, was a rusted steel trap. A chain led from it down into the snow. Slasher doubled up again and pried at the trap's jaws. They were locked. How did they open? She shook her foot and winced; a movement sent the teeth deeper into her flesh. She lay back and tried to think of what to do. 

The rusted condition of the trap showed that it had laid there for months, perhaps years, forgotten by the owner. No sense in waiting for them to come find her. She would have to figure out how to open the thing herself. It wasn't that hard--a certain mechanism had to be tripped-- 

The sun sank into the trees and vanished, and Slasher had not freed herself. She lay on her side, panting, eyes closed. Her foot was numb, and her toes had curled up uselessly. The trap was a little tighter than at first. When it cut off circulation her foot would freeze, if it hadn't already. She curled up and pulled her foot into her warm wing. Maybe that would help. She rested her head on her forepaws. She couldn't wrestle with a rusty trap when she couldn't see it clearly ... and she needed rest ... 

The big raptor dozed, curled like a big lizard in the snow, wings folded over her body for warmth. The night drew on, the stars glittered frostily, and the temperature dropped. Slasher began to shiver and awoke. She was too cold. She got up and walked in little circles, moving stiffly. No, not hypothermia ... too many people depend on you. The stupid trap had to open somehow ... She sank down in the show again and felt the trap with both numbed hands. 

Slasher had worked with it for some minutes, jangling softly, before her instincts flickered. She lifted her head and found herself staring at several pairs of yellow eyes on the far side of the frozen stream. Too late to hide the trap and bluff her way out. She turned, lay in a crouch, and bared her teeth to the roots. 

The lead wolf smiled at her, also showing fangs. "Hello, freak," he said softly. "It appears that we will feast tonight." 

"Perhaps," Slasher replied through her teeth, "but you won't be alive to enjoy it." 

"We'll see about that," said the lead wolf, leaping easily across the stream. He was seven feet long from nose to tail-tip, and marked prettily with brown, grey and white. His face and shoulders were scarred and tattered, and his yellow eyes burned with hungry ferocity. 

Lobo. 

His pack slunk after him, twenty-five burly wolves with ribs showing through their fur. They formed a circle about Slasher and waited for their leader to make the first move. Lobo and Slasher smiled at each other. 

Then Lobo sprang. 

* * *

Spike and Zephyer sat up simultaneously, gasping. Not far away, up the creek, there came the horrible clamor of a battle. It was yelps and snarls of wolves, and a hideous yelling, howling sound. It sounded like all the demons of Hell had been unleashed. "What's that?" Zephyer asked in cold terror. Spike had no idea and said so, but the sounds had something canine about them. He thought of the tracks he had seen earlier and a rock settled in his stomach. Wolves. 

The two sat in perfect silence, listening to the unholy bedlam. Two creatures seemed locked in a death-struggle. One made all the wolfish sounds one could think of, but the other was making a set of sounds that were totally different. "Maybe it's a wildcat," Zephyer breathed. "A wildcat and wolves." She had a good ear. 

"Yeah," Spike replied. "And boy are they close." 

There came a shriek, as of a creature death-struck, and the yelping fell silent a moment. In the air above their camp, Spike and Zephyer both heard the whooshing sound of huge wings beating the air. They faded away southward, and the snarls and barks of the wolves broke out anew. 

Spike turned and looked at where he knew Zephyer was in the darkness. "Zeff, we better get out of here. They'll get us." 

"We can't move at night," Zephyer retorted practically. She felt good enough to argue, at least. "And I'm too sick. Just go stoke up the fire real bright, and we'll stand guard." 

"But I need some sleep!" Spike protested. "I hiked all over today!" 

"Then let me take first watch," said Zephyer with maddening patience. "I slept all day." 

The two took turns watching the rest of the night, and keeping the fire fed. Once Zephyer saw a pair of eyes reflecting the firelight from the cover of the trees, but after a few moments they winked out and did not appear again.


	4. Chapter 4

A slow dawn pushed back the darkness. The forest lightened, and birds began to chirp here and there. Zephyer slept, and Spike nodded at the door of the tent. The wolves had slunk into hiding to sleep off their meal. 

Only one creature walked abroad that morning who feared neither the elements, nor wolves, nor discovery. 

He stood a moment and looked at the trampled, red-stained snow and the gnawed bones and fur of some luckless creature the wolves had eaten. It appeared to have been another wolf. He chuckled quietly to himself and walked on into the forest. He knew exactly where Spike and Zephyer's camp was, and who both of them were. He wished them the worst of luck, and thought to himself that maybe he could help the wolves get them. 

But his errand was not with them. It was with Lobo, the regressed Mobian. The wolf could help him on his mission. Lobo was nearby, the robot was certain; he detected several life forms not far off. The wolves had fed, and there was a good chance the pack leader would be in good humor. 

He crunched up to a thick juniper glade and said quietly, "Lobo? I wish to speak with you." For a moment it was perfectly silent inside the trees. Then the prickly boughs moved slightly, and Lobo's shaggy head appeared. The wolf looked the visitor over from head to toe and growled, "What do you want, robot?" 

"I am Robo Knux," said the robot without moving. "I have come to ask if you have encountered a certain person in your territory." 

Lobo's fangs gleamed in a half snarl. "You mean the thrice- accursed lizard with wings? It escaped us last night and killed one of my wolves as it went." He licked his chops. "And I'm still hungry." 

"Affirmative, oh violent one," said Robo Knux with a hint of sarcasm. "I believe in return for information given, I in return give you a full belly?" 

Lobo looked at him with his yellow eyes, and the muscles in his lips and nose twitched. "That is the custom. But yours is ... a different case." A robot could not be eaten. 

Robo Knux nodded smugly, and his green eyes blinked. "Yesss ... but I could make a kill and give it to you. I do not consume flesh." 

The wolf's eyes lit up greedily. He was always hungry, especially in the winter. "Yes, yes, I would perhaps accept that. Now, what do you wish to know from me?" 

Ah, the good part. Robo Knux took his time about replying. He examined the claws on both hands for rust before looking Lobo in the eye. "She is a robot anteater called Kardot. I believe she is in your territory somewhere. I need your assistance in locating her." 

Lobo looked at the robot for a long time without expression, but with a cunning glint in his eyes. At last he said, "And you will repay me for showing you her location?" 

"Yes," Robo Knux said, mildly relieved. He had begun to doubt that Lobo knew. 

The wolf ran his tongue out in a smile. "Very well. Return here at sunset and I will escort you personally." The smile vanished, and the fur on Lobo's neck bristled faintly. "If you do not repay us, you will die. I have powerful friends." Among them was the very android the robot sought, but Lobo said nothing about that. 

"Oh, I will repay," Robo Knux said evilly, clenching one hand. "And you will be pleased, I assure you." 

* * *

Spike was busy packing when Zephyer awoke. He saw her peer out at him and nodded to her. "'Morning. I hope you feel good enough to hike some." 

"We're leaving?" Zephyer asked in disbelief. 

Spike nodded and jammed his hatchet into his pack. "Those wolves have to know where we are, and I don't want to get jumped. We're going someplace they can't reach us." 

"Like where?" Zephyer asked crankily. "Home?" 

"Don't be a moron," Spike retorted. "There's a good place a little further up the mountain. I found it when I was exploring yesterday." 

Zephyer pulled back into the tent to pack her things, and Spike heard her grumble, "If I have a relapse and die you'll be sorry." 

"I'll bet," Spike thought. He should have come alone--so far she had been nothing but trouble. 

Packing was accomplished with many hot words but no bloodshed, fortunately. Spike was so irritated it never occurred to him that Zephyer was feeling better to bicker like she was doing. All he cared about was moving out as quickly as possible. 

The two of them hiked without a word through the silent, wintry woods. Spike half-wished Zephyer would be jumped from behind by a wolf, but he had no such luck. 

They stopped at noon for lunch. Zephyer flopped in the snow and lay motionless as Spike unearthed their rations. At first he thought she was only doing it to be ornery, but decided otherwise when he discovered she had fallen asleep in the few minutes it had taken for him to uncover their food. She was weaker than he had thought. He roused her and they ate in silence. 

They also moved out in silence. Spike amused himself by thinking of all the mean things he would do to her once she recovered. When he tired of that, he wondered about his parents and whether he would be able to locate the Robian stronghold. All that he knew was that it was built on a mountain spur, whatever that was, and had a valley around it. He was hoping it wasn't hidden as well as stories told; at least so he would have a chance of finding it. Well, if all those Robians had reached it, then maybe so could he. He also hoped they weren't as ferocious as the stories told, either. 

The land began to slope up into the beginnings of the foothills, and Spike veered to the left. The rocks had been up this way ... ah, there it was. 

Zephyer looked up and stopped. They were looking into a wide, shallow gully full of boulders. There were very few trees, and no cover. "We're camping down there?" she asked in horror. Like Spike, she had come to value cover. "You've got to be kidding!" 

"Oh, just come on," said Spike irritably. "I found a great place." 

Zephyer stared at the back of his head a moment before trudging after him. Had he finally cracked? They would be sitting ducks down there. Well, she was too tired and dizzy at the moment to fight him, so she would wait and see what he had found. 

The two made their way down into the stony gully. The snow was pitted and humped over the rocks, and it was rough going. There were some very large boulders, too, lying under blankets of snow like sleeping elephants. Spike went straight to the biggest one of all, fifteen feet high and twenty long. Zephyer folded her arms. "Okay, bright boy, what are we supposed to do? Prop it up on end and camp under it?" 

"No, on top of it!" Spike said with a proud gesture to the top. "No wolf can get up there." 

"I hate to break it to you, but neither can we." 

"Oh yeah? Watch this." 

Spike circled the rock a few steps and came to an area where the face of the rock was jagged and uneven, as if it had been broken a century before. He climbed up this, using the rough crags as hand and footholds, and in a few moments stood atop the boulder. "Easy as pie," he grinned down at the echidna. She gave him an uneasy look and said nothing. 

She attempted to climb up the way he had, but slipped back down halfway. "Oh c'mon, it's not that hard," Spike said, looking down. She looked up at him wearily, shoulders stooped under the weight of her pack. "I can't do it," she said. "I'm not strong enough." 

"Oh, you wimp," Spike growled. "You're robotized, and you tell me you're not strong enough? How do you think you've come so far already? Because you're part robot." 

The last thing Spike expected to see was her eyes fill with tears. She turned her back and sat down in the snow, weeping softly. "Zeff ...!" Spike exclaimed. "What's wrong?" He climbed down the rock and crouched beside her. 

"I'm a robot!" she cried. "That's all I'm good for!" She turned to him, eyes flaming through her tears. "Do you know why I came on this stupid trip? Do you know why?" She was so distraught Spike could think of nothing to say, and only shook his head. 

"It was to prove that I'm good for something. That I'm not just a freeloader. At home I was good for something, but here I'm just That Leech Zephyer. I'm not even on this planet for a reason, it was an accident! Now do you see why I'm ..." her voice broke in a sob. "Why I'm so unfriendly?" she finished. 

Spike opened his mouth to reply, but bit back the words. He had better keep quiet for a while. 

Zephyer cried herself out at last, and fell silent. "Look," said Spike, "I'll put our packs up there and help you climb. How's that?" 

She looked at him dully through reddened eyes. Her venomous attitude had passed with her storm of tears. "Oh Spike, I can make it. Take my pack and I can make it." 

He did, hauling them up one at a time on his back like a giant snail. Zephyer sat in the snow and watched him, swaying a little with each breath. When he reached the top for the second time, she rose wearily and attacked the rock face. It took two attempts, but at last Spike was helping her up onto the snowy rocky top. She sat down and hugged her knees to her chest. Spike went about pitching the tent on the rock's flat top, proud of the safety of their camp, worrying slightly that Slasher could spot them, and wondering what had gotten into his companion. 

Presently he mustered the courage to ask, "So, why have you been such a jerk?" 

Zephyer said flatly, "Because flint and steel cause sparks." 

"You calling me a jerk?" 

"I ain't calling you an angel." 

"So your attitude has been my fault?" Spike demanded, sensing another fight coming on. To his surprise, Zephyer said, "No, it was mine." 

"Oh." Feeling as if the wind had gone out of his sails, Spike busied himself with the tent. 

A moment later Zephyer said, "Did you know that I went to Eagle's Nest before Operation SQ started?" 

"No," Spike said without turning. Eagle's Nest was Knothole's backup village, home of a de-robotizer that had been designed by Packbell himself. It was also home to the Robians evacuated from the dying Robotropolis. Most were now de-robotized and living in the village for the winter. 

"Yeah, I went there," Zephyer continued, her voice low and husky from crying. "I wanted to get rid of this metal. And you know what happened?" 

"No ..." 

"It didn't work," she said, her voice taking on a note of despair. "My metal is a weird type Metal Sonic created. A bio metal. I'm actually more like an android than a Robian. Anyway, the de-robotizer doesn't work on it. I'm stuck like this." 

And that crack about her being a robot had touched a nerve, Spike thought with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," he said, sitting back on his heels and looking at her. "I, um ... I'm sorry." 

She shook her head, lifted a hand and let it fall. "It's not your fault, you didn't know. It's Metal Sonic's fault." She sighed and rested her head in her hands. "I shouldn't have come," Spike heard her mutter. 

"Look," said Spike, unrolling her sleeping bag and unfolding blankets, "why don't you get some rest? I'm gonna get some firewood that'll last us a while." 

Her red head came up. "Alone? You're going down there alone?" 

"You're too sick to go with me." 

"But what about the wolves? Do you have a weapon?" 

"Um ..." Spike bit his lip and looked at his pack. He had brought his crossbow and had lots of arrows, but had decided against a blaster because of the weight. "Not really, no." 

Zephyer leaned forward, eyebrows drawn together. "Spike, what if you're attacked?" 

It wasn't something he enjoyed thinking about. He shrugged. "Well then ..." 

Zephyer pursed her lips, then said, "Aha." Her left arm morphed into her laser pistol. She unscrewed it with her right hand, and morphed her left hand back into its original form. "Here," she said, holding the pistol out to Spike. He took it, not yet recovered from surprise. "I didn't know your gun came off." 

She smiled slightly. "I didn't, either, until Rotor told me. It has ten rounds, then you recharge the cells by pulling back this lever. It takes about two minutes to recharge." Her silver hands waved back and forth, demonstrating. 

Spike nodded--it was a basic laser pistol--and stuffed it in his coat pocket. "How's the battery?" 

She shook her head. "I don't know. It should be good for another year, but if you waste ammo, then ..." She blinked and held the side of her head. "I don't feel good." 

"Then you lay down," Spike said soothingly. "I'll only be gone an hour, two at the most." 

Zephyer crawled into the tent, lay down and closed her eyes. "Okay," she said without moving. "Be careful." 

* * *

Spike was tired. He had worked hard this trip, and had had a lot less sleep the previous night than he was accustomed to. He had to wander a good distance from the safety of their camp rock before finding a few dead branches here and there. Hacking them into useable sizes was hard work, and before long he found his strength ebbing. He sat down on a snowy rock to rest, panting clouds into the frosty air. 

Something moved. He turned his head. Nothing. His eyes were playing tricks on him. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. He kept telling Zephyer to rest when HE needed to rest. Well, he could take a nap when he finished this ... What was that? Something moving in the trees to his left? He stood up and fumbled Zephyer's pistol from his pocket. He cocked it and stared at his surroundings, forcing himself to see clearly. Nothing. The spines on his neck prickled slightly, and he began to sweat. Either he was loony or he was seeing something. He stood for a long moment, pistol clutched in both hands, looking and listening. 

Nothing. 

After another moment the porcupine lowered his gun. He had better not waste any more time or he would never get back to the rock alive. 

Several pairs of yellow eyes, hot and hungry, followed Spike's every move. They were hungry, but they were patient. Eating him now would be foolish when he could lead them back to his camp. 

* * *

Zephyer was awakened by a gentle shaking. She rolled over and opened her eyes. She sensed it was late afternoon, for the light had a dim, tired look. Spike was there. When he saw her stir he pulled out of the tent and said, "Feel any better?" 

Zephyer sat up and drew a breath. She felt rested and comfortably warm. "I think my fever broke," she told him. 

"Good," came Spike's voice from outside. "We're going to be here until you're completely well." 

"How come?" 

"Take a look." 

Zephyer pulled on her coat and crawled out of the tent. The first thing she saw was the campfire and large stack of wood near it. "Oh good," she said. "You found some wood." She looked at Spike and saw him standing at the far end of the rock, her pistol in his hand, looking at the ground below grimly. Zephyer stood and followed his gaze. 

Seated at a safe distance, tails wrapped around their paws, were three gray wolves, ears pricked, tongues lolling out like a couple of happy dogs. But they were far from friendly. 

"What are they doing?" Zephyer whispered to Spike. 

He turned his head a little and spoke without taking his eyes from the wolves, "They followed me back to camp. They think they've found a gourmet feast." 

"Can they get up here?" Zephyer asked, fear stabbing through her heart as she looked toward their jagged 'stairway'. 

"I don't think so," Spike said, eyes narrowing, "but I don't aim to find out. We'll stand guard again tonight." 

* * *

Night fell like an inky blanket. Zephyer and Spike took up positions on either side of the fire, Spike armed with Zephyer's blaster. Zephyer was idly changing her right hand to a sword blade and back again. If a wolf actually climbed up on their rock, she was the close-range backup. She would have preferred to take the gun herself, but Spike was a better shot from years living in Robotropolis. 

"You could go lay down, if you wanted," Spike said. 

Zephyer shook her head. "I'm okay. I wanted to stay up for a while." 

The fire crackled, throwing sparks into the black sky. Zephyer stared into it, slightly hypnotized, while Spike peered around into the darkness every few minutes. 

Abruptly Zephyer said, "I wish Slasher were here." 

Spike jumped and looked at her. "Huh? Why?" 

Zephyer rested her chin in one hand, still looking at the fire. "Because if they attack us, I don't think we could fend them off." 

"What makes you think Slasher could?" 

"Well, if she couldn't fight, then at least she could rescue us." Zephyer fell silent, but raised her eyes to the night sky. She was afraid--afraid of their solitude and isolation, afraid of the winter weather, afraid. She glanced at Spike. He had set the pistol on his knee and was pressing his fingertips together, gazing into the fire. His face had a hard, yet troubled expression. "I made him mad," she thought. "I shouldn't have mentioned Slasher." She drew her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them miserably. "I'm such a failure at this ... I should have never come." 

She looked up again to see the porcupine gazing at her. He gave a heavy sigh and reached one hand into his coat. He pulled out something and held it by a string, dangling and shining in the firelight. "What is that?" Zephyer asked, sitting upright in surprise. He tossed it across the fire. She caught it and examined at it. "Spike ... is this Sonic's whistle?" He nodded. Zephyer stared at it, glistening in her hand, as her surprise turned to disgust. "You stole it?" Again he nodded. She glared at him. "This isn't yours! Why'd you take it?" She threw it back to him, wanting to get it away from her. 

Spike caught it and put it back in his coat. "A safeguard," he said with a shrug. "If we get in such trouble that it's a choice between death and letting Slasher find us, then ..." 

"But you stole it!" Zephyer exclaimed, eyes flashing in indignation. "You should have brought a communicator or something, something of yours!" 

There was no remorse in Spike's eyes. "Sonic won't mind." 

"Oh yeah? He wears that thing everywhere. How would you feel if he took your crossbow, huh?" 

Spike shrugged and didn't answer, for at that moment a lonely howl rose from the woods to their left. At the same time, an answering chorus rose from a pack sitting in a ring around their rock chimed in. The two on the rock jumped and looked toward the ground. Eyes shimmering in the dark, stared back at them. 

Lobo's pack had arrived for dinner.


	5. Chapter 5

Lobo himself was not in the pack. He was a dozen miles away, loping easily along a mountain ridge, Robo Knux a shadow with green eyes floating behind him. The robot heard the pack howl, but he did not understand them. Lobo did, however, and stopped a moment to look back. He gave a growly chuckle from the depths of his throat, then turned and continued on his way. 

"What is it?" Robo Knux inquired. 

"The pack," said Lobo shortly. He had no reason to explain his business to strangers, particularly strangers whom he could not harm, like robots. Robo Knux did not speak again, and the two journeyed on through the night, a hunting wolf and a fearsome robot. 

Presently the wolf turned aside and trotted down the backside of a ridge into a thick mat of trees. Robo Knux was forced to follow him on foot, as the trees left no room for flying. Lobo passed through the trees with hardly a rustle, the robot with scarcely more. The two were vastly different creatures, but both knew the value of moving quietly in the woods. 

Lobo halted. Robo Knux moved up beside him and stood still. "Just ahead there, in the clearing," growled Lobo, although the robot was already scanning it. "That is her camp. I will expect payment within two weeks." With that the wolf melted away into the shadows. Robo Knux nodded and moved forward silently. The wolf had played true; his sensors detected a cyber organism in the clearing beyond. Robo Knux considered breaking his bargain, but decided against it. Lobo could be a valuable ally in the years to come. 

Kardot was huddled near a puny campfire for warmth, clawed hands extended toward the blaze. Robo Knux approached her from behind, and so had time to look her over before revealing his presence. She did not appear to be an android. She appeared to need food and warmth as much as Spike and Zephyer did, but his sensors detected the machinery inside her hull. She was as much of a robot as he was. He stepped toward her and said, "Greetings." 

Kardot whirled and stared at him with the surprise of a hunted animal upon discovery. "What? Who are you? What do you want?" 

He lifted a hand, palm outward. "I mean you no harm. I am Mecha bot four." 

The anteater sneered. "I know who you are. You're one of Robotnik's inferior lackeys." 

Robo Knux stood perfectly still, manually closing down the reactionary software that said KILL HER!! "Some could call me that," he purred as if totally calm, "although I have been on my own for some time now. I would prefer it if you call me Robo Knux." 

Kardot stiffened. "Knux, as in Knuckles?" 

"Affirmative." 

The anteater leaped to her feet, at the same time drawing a foot-long dagger from somewhere on her person. She sprang at the robot like a cat, back arched, teeth bared. 

Robo Knux could have laughed, but he did not. He solemnly waited until she was upon him, then decked her with a metal palm to the face. She fell to the snow, but was up again like lighting. "I am an assassin robot," he told her coolly as she stood panting, holding her face. "The only reason I haven't killed you already is because Mecha bot two wants you alive and unharmed." 

"Oh yeah?" she snapped, lifting her dagger defensively. "What do you want me for, huh? You gonna take me to prison or something?" 

"No," said Robo Knux, folding his broad arms. She certainly didn't act like an android. "We want you for your schematics. Metal Sonic needs your technology to build a new robot." 

"Oh, so you're gonna take me apart," she said, flipping her orange forelock out of her face. He saw her lower lip was bleeding-- really bleeding. "Well, guess what. I'd rather die than let an idiot disassemble me." 

At this point something went queer in Robo Knux's head. He had reprogrammed and patched himself so much that he was more complex than even he knew. As he stood there, looking at Kardot and seeing her afraid but defiant, a weakling android with no weapon systems, he felt sorry for her. Taking him on with only a dagger--! Poor brave fool. "We will not disassemble you," said the robot. "We mean only to scan your systems. You will remain unharmed." He scanned her systems himself and located her tracking device. That liar Mecha--it was set to a different frequency than the one the Mecha bots used. No wonder he had been unable to locate her. 

"You will accompany me south at 0500 hours," he told her as she reseated herself near the fire. 

She glared up at him, the firelight casting a golden light on her finely-furred face. "I will accompany you nowhere. I have things to do." 

Again, Robo Knux could have laughed. A pitiful android with things to do. He seated himself beside her and sat gazing into the darkness over the fire, as the fire itself would blind his visual sensors. Androids were naturally weak; something between a robot and an organism, but at the same time were neither. He thought smugly of killing Packbell. Androids were remarkably inferior ... He fixed his green eyes on Kardot's face and changed his mind. Whoever had built her had been a remarkable inventor. And there was that strange idea again ... pity and admiration of her spunk. The robot had some basic emotion chips he had picked up somewhere, but they had never worked before. And so he had no idea what his current feelings toward Kardot might lead to. 

"Allow me to accompany you on your errand," the robot said to the android. "It would be a shame to lose you." 

She gave him a savage look and seemed about to reply in the negative, but appeared to change her mind. "All right," she said with a little sniff. "But don't bore me with your stuffy Robotropolis wit." 

* * *

Spike and Zephyer still sat on the snowy boulder's top, feeding the fire from time to time, and watching the wolves. The beasts were sitting on their tails in a wide ring, staring hungrily up at their marooned quarry. Several wolves had tried to climb the boulder, but either fell back or were shot by Spike. After two wolves had perished, the pack retreated to a more respectful distance to watch and drool in the snow. 

The porcupine and echidna had grown confident that the wolves could not reach them, and were arguing in low tones about Sonic's whistle. The longer Zephyer thought about it the more it ate at her and the angrier she became. A horror of stealing had been pounded into her since she had been very young, and she could not comprehend how Spike could take something without feeling guilty. The more she hammered at Spike, the more he wished he had not taken it to start with, and the more annoyed he grew with her. 

The two were distracted from their strife by a voice saying, "Hello, friends." 

A look around brought to view a lone wolf seated near the foot of their rock, gazing up at them fearlessly. He was much bigger than the other wolves, and appeared better fed. 

"Uh, hi," said Spike. "Who are you?" 

"Lobo," the wolf said sweetly. "It appears you have a secure perch up there." 

"You bet," Spike said, sneaking a glance at Zephyer. She was biting her lip uneasily and watching Lobo. The wolf smiled at them by running out his tongue. It made him look like a good-natured dog. "I'd advise you not to come down from there. Those wolves are very mean, and they are very hungry." 

Spike looked at Zephyer again to see her hands moving stealthily. She was packing snow into hard balls, holding them out to the fire to melt them a bit, then setting them out in the snow to freeze. She looked at Spike and winked. Spike winked back. They were going to send Lobo the message that they were not as gullible as he thought they were. Spike returned his attention to the wolf as Lobo said, less graciously, "Do you know who I am, Mobian?" 

"You just told me," Spike said cheekily. "Low-life." 

"I am Lobo," the wolf growled. "And I was born a Mobian." 

With that, he stood up on two legs. 

The charge was eerie. Spike and Zephyer had grown used to the four-legged wolf form, and to see one suddenly take on the shape of a two-legged Mobian wolf was a shock to the eye and mind. Lobo stood before them, a tall, straight wolf in unkempt, shaggy fur. The two were struck with the fear that now he could climb their rock and get them. 

Zephyer, afraid but defiant nonetheless, let fly an ice ball. It struck Lobo full in the face, and in that moment his Mobian charade was ruined. He staggered backward, unaccustomed to two legs as he was, dropped to all fours and wiped the snow from his eyes. The next instant, furious, the wolf sprang at their rock. The pack, excited by his fury, followed suit. 

Angry, starved wolves could jump quite a distance, and some came dangerously close to scrambling up on the boulder. Spike shot wolves right and left, and Zephyer dashed to and fro, stabbing paws and howling jaws. 

The attack did not last long--the resistance was too strong. The wolfpack retreated into the rocks about the area to lick their wounds, and silence descended upon the battlefield. 

Spike and Zephyer had escaped without a scratch. Spike, charged with adrenaline and a sense of superiority, assured the weary Zephyer that he could stand guard. And guard he did, long into the night after his companion was asleep. He was finally driven into shelter by the biting cold that strengthened every hour without the sun. 

The two remained camped on the boulder for three days while Zephyer regained her strength. Every evening the wolves returned hopefully to wait and watch in a wide, scraggly circle, Lobo among them. The pack leader always had something to say to his would-be meal, and it was always hateful. Spike and Zephyer only laughed at him, although uneasily. The two harbored a silent fear that one night he would climb their rock and take them unawares. 

Early one morning, after the wolves had departed, Spike and Zephyer packed up and left. 

Spike set a course for the mountains, as straight as he could make it. Zephyer followed him in silence, looking and listening for wolves. When she was not gazing at the forest, she was studying the forbidding mountain wall above them. Jagged with rock, blanketed with snow, lined with coniferous forest, the Ice Cap range frowned upon the valley, daring them to come near. Zephyer had never seen mountains so majestic and terrible, and somehow sensed their danger, although she had never heard the stories. She was quickly updated on these by Spike, who liked to ward off boredom with talk. He told her of mountain climbing teams, of whom maybe one person was found months later where they had somehow died. He told her of the notorious avalanche of '21 that had buried a village and killed all the inhabitants. He told her about Sonic and Tails' uncovering of Robotnik's secret base, built inside a glacier, years ago, and of how the glacier had been slowly collapsing in on itself. 

With each story, Zephyer's reluctance to enter the mountains grew. She had never imagined the dangers of a snowy wilderness, and began to wonder if backing out was an option. Then, as they made camp that night, Spike mentioned in passing that she was lucky she had had a family, and didn't remember seeing it torn apart by a military coup. Zephyer's fears were immediately overcome by compassion for Spike, and she resolved to go on, no matter what the cost. 

* * *

A slow week passed. Supplies dwindled slowly, both in Knothole and in the intrepid explorers' packs. Spike and Zephyer were liberal in their use of the laser pistol, and the trailing wolf pack kept to a respectful distance. Spike always aimed specifically for Lobo, but the beast managed to escape harm each time. 

As the two worked their way up, up into the mountain country, the wolves gradually lost interest. Scanty as hunting was in the valley, it was a feast compared to the mountains, and the travellers had proved armed and fearless. 

The last night of that week, the two found themselves making camp without a hungry audience. As they ate a meagre supper, Zephyer cocked her head and yawned. "Air pressure's dropping," she commented. "There's another blizzard coming." 

"How do you know?" Spike asked with his mouth full. 

Zephyer waved a hand in the vicinity of her ears. "I've got sensitive ears. When the air pressure changes, like before a storm, I can feel it. Do you think we'll be sheltered enough here?" 

The two looked up at the trees and large boulder they had camped against. "We're on the south side of that rock," said Spike, pointing with his spoon. "That should break the wind some." 

Zephyer shrugged. "If you say so." 

Neither had ever seen a mountain snowstorm. 

The storm struck shortly before dawn with awesome fury. The snow was lashed into a driving, biting cloud, the wind tore the white from the trees and re-flocked them, and the temperature plummeted. Spike and Zephyer saw their danger at once; their camp was too exposed. If they did not find a better shelter, they would freeze to death by noon. But the danger of getting separated and lost in the blinding snow was just as great. 

The two were camped just below a rocky ridge. They decided to work their way along it and look for a sheltered nook of some sort they would camp in. Spike thoughtfully tied a rope around his waist and had Zephyer tie the other end around her own, so as to keep from becoming separated. 

Striking out into the blizzard was perhaps one of the most foolish things they two had ever attempted, but good came of it. The two had walked for ten minutes, blinded by the driving snow, deafened by the wind and feeling the cold sink its teeth into their bones. Zephyer chanced to walk a little out of the way to avoid a jagged chunk of rock, and without warning fell through a hole in the snow and vanished. The jolt yanked Spike from his feet and dragged him several yards. He stood, followed the rope by touch and found the black hole Zephyer had made. "Zeff!" he yelled into it. 

"Come on in!" he heard her yell back, her voice muffled. "I'm okay, it's a cave!" 

Spike sat down and slid into the hole. 

It was a drop of three feet. Spike landed and found himself in a low-ceilinged cave. It was about twenty feet long by six feet wide, and the floor was carpeted with dead leaves that crackled under their feet. The walls and ceiling were solid rock. The air was much warmer there than outside in the killing wind. "Zeff, you're a genius!" Spike exclaimed with gratitude. 

"No, I'm just a klutz," she replied, "and it's a good thing, too." 

It was a perfect shelter. They made camp without setting up the tent--they wouldn't need it--and sat down to wait out the storm. 

One of the first things they thought of was to keep the entry open to let in air. Zephyer accomplished this by crawling to the entrance and standing up. "Cold out there," she said as she returned. "Our chances are a lot better now." She sat down and crossed her legs. Time to start some kind of conversation to help pass the time. She looked at Spike and said, "Where did you get your nickname?" It had been nagging at her for quite some time. 

Spike shrugged. "Oh, I donno. I think one of the SWAT-bots called me that when I lived in Robotropolis, and I sorta used it." He gave Zephyer a sidelong look. "Where'd you get YOUR nickname?" 

"Zephyer is my real name," said the echidna indignantly. "Zephyer Clamata Winstrom." 

"Clamata? Isn't that a flower or something?" 

"No, no," Zephyer said with a shake of her head. "A clamata is a cloud formation. You usually see them in supercell thunderstorms. A zephyr is a breeze. Most of us echidnas were named for a weather pattern--it's a custom." 

"Oh," said Spike, feeling dull and uneducated. "Why isn't Knuckles named after a cloud?" 

"Because he's a Mobian echidna," said Zephyer sensibly. "Besides, he was named for his claws." 

"Do girl echidnas have claws on their knuckles?" 

Zephyer held up a smooth metal hand, looked at it and put it down. "Not usually. It's a genetic thing." It was her turn to look sidelong at Spike. "What's YOUR real name?" 

Spike looked at the entrance. "I think snow's getting in." 

"Yeah, change the subject," Zephyer said sarcastically, but not unkindly. "C'mon, it can't be worse than Spark's real name." 

The porcupine drew a breath, let it out and rested his chin in his palm. "Douglas," he muttered. "Douglas Quill." 

"That's not embarrassing," said Zephyer, leaning back. "I always thought you looked like a Doug." 

He looked at her sharply to see if she were mocking him and decided she wasn't. "I'd rather you call me Spike," he told her. "That's what I've gotten used to." 

The two fell silent for a while and listened to the wind howl outside the cave mouth. Zephyer remembered that the last storm had lasted for three days, and checked their rations. "Spike," she announced, "we're almost out of food. We have about two day's worth left." 

She handed the knapsack to Spike, who looked inside and frowned. "We could stretch it to four," he said. He looked up at Zephyer and saw she was biting her lip. "What's wrong?" 

"Spike," she said slowly, "how are we supposed to get home? Or get anywhere? The stronghold could be a hundred miles from here ..." 

There was silence a moment. Spike pulled out Sonic's whistle and twirled it by its string. "We'll call Slasher. She can fly us out." 

Zephyer only looked at him and said nothing. She had a feeling that Spike would never use the whistle, for using it would be admitting defeat. Spike was too proud to admit defeat. A new thought came to her. "What'll we do if we DO find the stronghold? Are you going to live there?" 

Spike shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. It depends." He returned Sonic's whistle to his inner coat pocket. 

Zephyer shook her head, crawled to her sleeping bag and lay down. They were doomed, that was what they were. Doomed to starve in these frozen mountains ...


	6. Chapter 6

The day passed slowly, and the blue light in the cave entrance faded. The two argued over whether or not to light a fire, and Spike won by pointing out that a fire would burn all the oxygen if the entrance froze over during the night, and they would suffocate in their sleep. Zephyer relented at last, although unwillingly; she missed the warmth. 

Breaking the entrance in the morning was rather difficult. The snow had drifted four feet thick over it, and Zephyer had to paw and hack at the crust before finally breaking through. Outside the frigid wind continued to blow. Another day of crawling about on all fours in the little cave. 

The day crept drearily by. Spike and Zephyer mostly lay on their sleeping bags, as the roof was too low to allow them to stand up, bored stiff. The solid rock above them muted all outside sound, and the two tried to break the silence by talking. 

But by and by talking faded away into silence, and their fears grew and fed on it. Zephyer gazed at the dim ceiling and worried about getting back to Knothole, about finding food ... if they didn't find food up here, then the village would starve down there. What a cheerful thought. Despair drew near, but Zephyer pushed it away. They could survive. Once on XR-7, when the agricultural domes had been damaged, the echidna clan had been in danger of starvation. They had rationed, worked hard, and pulled through. But XR-7 had no seasons ... food production was possible year round. So maybe here on Mobius, their situation was more serious ... she was back again at Operation SQ. There was no way out of the loop. 

Spike's fears about the food situation were much the same as his companion's, but they were coupled with another; claustrophobia. Stuck in this hole, not even able to stand up--what if the cave collapsed and crushed them? What if they were snowed in? He began to gasp and pant. 

Presently Zephyer asked him what was wrong, and he moaned that the walls were closing in. "Don't think about it," she told him. "Close your eyes, don't look, and imagine you're somewhere else." 

Spike shut his eyes and said, "But what should I think of? Robotropolis?" 

"No ... how about I tell you about home, and you picture it?" 

"Okay," Spike replied, trying not to think of the six feet of rock between himself and open air. He expected her to talk about Knothole, and was surprised when she began to tell of her home planet. She painted a picture of a dry, desert world carved into canyons and eerie formations by the continually blowing wind. The sky was orange, the rocks were red, yellow and pink, and the hardy echidnas lived underground in spacious caverns they dug themselves. Underground there was water and pale fungi that grew without the sun. Above ground, in the dangerous, windy desert that could kill with its broiling heat, was the group of fragile plastic and glass agricultural domes where the echidnas raised food. The crops they grew had been brought to them, one seed at a time, by the Swifts, enormous swallow- like birds that landed only to nest, eating and sleeping on the wing. The echidnas had formed an alliance with them, and each species helped the other whenever they could. 

It helped Spike forget his claustrophobia for the moment, and after a while, lying with eyes closed, he dozed off. Zephyer sat alone in the dimness for a long time, thinking of that other world she had lost. 

* * *

Zephyer awoke with a start. Something had changed. Spike lay nearby, curled in his bag, snoring. What day was it? The third? The fourth? She felt as if she had been asleep an abnormally long time. She sat where she was for a few minutes before she at last realized what was different. The howl of the wind was gone. Their cave was as quiet as a tomb, and nearly as dark. 

She crawled to the entrance and looked at it in dismay. Their little tunnel to the surface had collapsed, and the top was sealed over. "Oh great," she muttered. 

A few moments later Zephyer and a sleepy Spike were huddled at the entrance. "Too bad you're not a guy or you could dig us out," said Spike. 

"Help yourself, mister macho male," Zephyer snapped, eyes flashing. "It's packed solid. Just get your snow shovel and we'll be out in no time." 

"Sorry, sheesh," said Spike, rolling his eyes. "Can you dig with your sword?" 

"I can try." The echidna morphed her arm into a blade and stabbed into the icy crust above them. After a moment she sank back, panting. "It's solid ice. We'd need to melt it." 

"Hey, I know!" said Spike, eyes brightening. "Shoot your laser into it! That should soften it right up." 

The lasers punched tiny, hot holes in the ice, and Zephyer was able to make headway. When she tired, she gave Spike her pistol, and he dug with his hands. They took turns, slowly widening their collapsed tunnel and working up through the new crust. The tunnel stretched six feet, seven feet--and they had not reached the surface. "Maybe there was an avalanche," Zephyer worried. 

Eight feet and the snow began to soften. Nine feet, and Spike's hands broke through into blinding sunlight and crisp fresh air. 

The two clambered out into the icy upper world and stood breathing the air and blinking in the sun like two moles. They had not realized how stuffy their lair had grown, or how close they had actually come to suffocation. 

"I think your batteries are shot," Spike said, handing Zephyer's pistol back to her. 

"We're down to your crossbow, now," Zephyer replied, screwing the gun in place. 

The attack was ingeniously planned. The two never saw it coming, blinded as they were by the sun and snow after living in darkness for so long. The wolf pack attacked in deadly silence. Spike was struck from behind by a hairy body, hot jaws ravening for the back of his neck. Zephyer was thrown down, too, but she fought back in terror, her sword cutting into the wolf above her. It leaped away with a snarl, and she sat up to see four wolves worrying Spike, all but hiding him from view. Zephyer plowed into them with a scream, ignoring the snapping teeth that closed on her arms and legs; they could rip her clothes, but they couldn't penetrate her armor. She flung the wolves off and Spike leaped to his feet. He was bleeding in a dozen places and was terribly frightened. "Get to the cave!" Zephyer yelled, whirling to face another attack. She didn't see if he did, for Lobo himself was there, yellow eyes like raging fire, red jaws open. He knocked her down by sheer weight and slashed at her throat, unprotected by metal. An upflung arm saved her from instant death, and Zephyer ran her sword arm clumsily against his chest. It was a glancing blow, but Lobo sprang away instinctively. Zephyer had made it to her knees when another wolf pounced from behind. She shrieked for help, then her face was buried in the snow. 

There was a twang, a hollow thud as something struck the wolf above her. The beast gave a series of yelps, leaped away and fell to the snow with one of Spike's arrows in its side. Two wolves leaped for the porcupine. One got an arrow in the throat, and the other received a facefull of spines from Spike's lashing tail. The first fell dead and the other fled, howling in pain. 

A hand hauled Zephyer to her feet. She looked up, expecting to see Spike, and instead saw only a pair of glimmering digital eyes. Her heart skipped several beats in a row. "You," she whispered. 

"Yes," the robot whispered back. "I didn't get a chance to kill you last time. This time I will." 

"Spike!" Zephyer screamed, flinging herself away from Robo Knux. His hand remained locked around her arm. Spike gasped. Robo Knux had been presumed dead after misusing Sonic's emerald belt. Wooden arrows would do no good against a metal robot. 

"Lobo, you may attack Spike now," said the crimson robot. "I will kill the girl. She is mostly metal, anyway." Then to Zephyer he said conversationally, "Lobo gave me some valuable information, and in return I must give him food. He wanted you two. Now, should I tear your limbs off before or after I kill you?" His hand twisted her arm a fraction, and she knew he could do it. Easily. 

"Spike, the whistle!" Zephyer cried. Spike, backing away from Lobo, whipped the whistle out and blew it. He didn't know the signals, but he could blow it. 

* * *

Slasher sat up with a jerk, then groaned and sank back. 

"What's wrong, Slash?" Sonic asked from his seat nearby. 

The big raptor's foot was in a cast, and she sported bandages all over. Fighting a pack of wolves with a chained foot was hazardous to one's health, even if the chain broke in the heat of battle. "The whistle," Slasher muttered feverishly. "They blew the whistle." She tried again to get up, but hadn't the strength. She lay limp on her bed and closed her green eyes. "They need me," she whispered. 

Sonic only shook his head. The big raptor's fever had made her speak nonsense before, and he put this down as nonsense, too.


	7. Chapter 7

The Ice Cap range sheltered many secrets, and a pair of Freedom Fighters slaughtered by a wolf pack and a Mecha bot would have been but one more added to its tally. It was fortunate that not only Slasher could hear that whistle. 

"Did you hear that?" 

"It sounded like a dog whistle." 

"I couldn't have heard it without my sensors. Sounds like somebody's in trouble." 

"Lobo's been tracking something ever since the snowstorm quit. Look, there's the pack down there." 

"Good grief, what's that with them?" 

"It's a Mecha bot. Two Mobians? Looks like we're too late." 

The wolves and Robo Knux looked up to see three figures bearing down upon them at a run; the parts of their bodies not covered by warm clothing glittered metallically. "The mutants!" Lobo howled to his pack. "Flee!" The wolves scattered. Robo Knux alone stood his ground. He was not afraid of a bunch of Robians. At least, he was not afraid until he realized his rocket fuel had frozen and his weapon systems were off-line. He glided away after the wolves and vanished into the trees. 

"I told you we were too late," said a rabbit. His left arm was robotized, and he had metal plates embedded in his skin in various places beneath his clothes. A robotized fox with one arm still flesh walked up to the two figures lying crumpled and torn in the snow. "This is a new one," he said in a synthesized voice. "The girl was a Robian and the other one wasn't. Look Jim, it's a porcupine." 

Jim was a porcupine, too. Half his face was robotized, and his left arm and leg were, too, although he wore clothing over them. He knelt next to the robotized echidna and rolled her over. "Alive," he announced. "Bern, pick her up." The fox bent over the echidna, and Jim moved to the porcupine. The back of the newcomer's head and neck and been bitten badly, and his right arm had been broken in three places by Lobo's jaws. "This one's alive, too," said Jim, "though he's in sorry shape. We'll take him back, too." 

As the Robian slid his arms under the wounded porcupine's body, Spike's eyes opened. He looked up at the half-robot half-Mobian face above him, and recognized it. "Dad," he murmured. 

"Awake, are we?" said the Robian, lifting him in his arms. 

"Dad, it's me," said Spike a little louder. "Dad ... it's Douglas." 

Jim looked down at the boy in his arms, and saw for the first time a familiar face that had grown with the years. "Doug? Is ... is that you?" 

The rabbit commented from several feet away, "I thought your kids had been robotized." 

"No," Spike murmured, beginning to faint. "I've been with the Freedom Fighters ..." 

The two Robians gazed at their companion. Jim, usually so collected and businesslike, was totally floored. He stared at his son's face with so many emotions he didn't know what he felt. 

"Jim," said Bern the fox, "we'd better get them back to base or they'll die." 

"Right," said Jim, turning his head so they wouldn't see the tears in his good eye. "Activate rockets." 

The feet of all three Robians opened up, ignited, and blasted them skyward at ninety miles an hour. 

* * *

Zephyer opened her eyes and lay staring up at the ceiling. She was warm and comfortable, except for a throbbing pain on the side of her head. "I must be in Knothole," she thought dreamily. Robo Knux and the wolves floated through her head, the remnants of a nightmare half remembered. It felt so good to be warm ... 

Footsteps. She turned her head, expecting to see Sally, and instead saw a female goat with a robot torso and arms carrying a tray. "Hello, honey," said the goat. "I'm Sheila. How's your head?" 

Startled, Zephyer gazed at the gleaming metal and raised a hand to her head. There was a bandage wrapped around her head, and her skull was sensitive to touch. 

"The Mecha bot put some nice scratches on you," said Sheila, setting a bottle of pills and a cup of water on the bedside table. "Drink this, honey. It'll help you perk up." She handed Zephyer a cup of dark liquid. Zephyer drank it obediently--it tasted like strong herbal tea. 

"Where are we?" Zephyer asked, handing the cup back. "And what happened?" 

Sheila sat down on the edge of the bed. "This is Stonecleft, the Robian stronghold. The men were out on a scouting mission to learn of Lobo's movements and came upon the wolf pack as it was getting ready to rip you and your friend to pieces." 

"Oh my gosh, Spike!" Zephyer exclaimed, sitting up suddenly. "Where is he?" 

"Surgery," Sheila said soothingly. "Don't worry, he'll be all right. They're setting his arm." 

Zephyer sank back against the pillow. "Robo Knux held me so I couldn't help him. Is he badly hurt?" 

"He'll make it," Sheila said, looking away. "Now, I need to ask you some questions." She paused and looked at the echidna. Zephyer nodded, and the nurse pulled out a notepad and pencil. 

They were the standard questions about background, political connections and personal information. Zephyer guessed it was to ascertain she would not give them away. Later she found out that it was only because of her the Robians had allowed her and Spike to pass their gates. Being partially robotized had its advantages. "But," she asked, "did Spike find his family? He was hoping to find them ..." 

Sheila gave her an odd look, and her brown eyes filled with tears. 

"What? Did they die?" 

The goat pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her eyes. "Oh no, nothing like that. Douglas's father was one of the men in the scout group," Sheila sniffed. "He brought his baby in, called his wife--I never saw anything so sweet in my life. Why, Mrs. Quill just cried right out loud. They wanted to hold him longer, but they had to rush him to surgery to save his arm. They thought he had been killed or robotized, see. Their other son fell to the robots." 

"Other son?" Zephyer exclaimed. "You mean he has a brother?" 

"Had, Miss Zephyer. The military robots killed him. The Quills thought they had lost both sons ... until Douglas shows up right on our doorstep." The goat wiped her eyes again, quite overcome. 

Zephyer felt an involuntary lump in her throat at the thought of Spike's family reunion, and how how his parents must have felt. 

Sheila stood up. "Well Miss Zephyer, I'll leave you to get some rest. The leaders want to interview you later." 

Zephyer waved goodbye to the nurse, and lay back against the pillows. Perhaps she would get to see Spike when he came out of surgery. 

* * *

It was a full twenty-four hours before Zephyer was allowed to see Spike. One reason was that he was recovering from his injuries and operation, and the other was because the leaders wanted to keep the newcomers separated until they had been questioned. 

Zephyer was questioned first, as she was in the best physical condition of the two. She was led through the cold, stone halls and rooms by a rat who was mostly robotized. The Robians they passed didn't look at them, and all seemed anxious or unhappy about something. Zephyer felt sorry for them. They didn't know that a derobotizer existed. She had it all figured out; she would tell them about the derobotizer in Knothole, and in return the Robians would give them the supplies they needed. It was so perfect she was confident the Robians wouldn't refuse, and marched with head up into the conference hall. 

Whatever the stronghold had been originally, it had been gigantic. The echidna entered a room the size of a small cathedral with large windows looking west and south. There was a huge table in the center of the room, obviously made for seating hundreds of people. But only three figures were seated there, and they rose as she entered. One was Bern the fox, one was a bobcat and one was a predatory bird of some kind. 

"Sit down," said the bobcat, motioning to a chair near them. "I'm Daniel, this is Bern and this is Wolfgang. Please make yourself comfortable." 

Zephyer took her assigned seat, hoping her face didn't show how her heart had jumped at the word 'wolf'. 

The interrogation was studied and particular. The Robians wanted to know how, when and by whom she had been robotized. She learned later than Robian spies had come to them who acted friendly, but in reality were simply programmed robots. On hearing she had been an experiment by Metal Sonic, they grew very serious, almost afraid. The questioning was extended from 30 minutes to two hours, and Zephyer's hands and feet grew cold, and her metal joints creaked. 

She was relieved when at last they seemed to relax and began to question her about her journey to the fortress. She told them that not only had Spike been looking for his parents, but Knothole village had lost nearly all its food supplies and needed additional supplies to survive the winter. She added that Knothole owned the only known derobotizer, which was met with instant suspicion. If they did, why was she not derobotized? This announcement cast a shadow of doubt on everything else she had said, and at last they released her with the news that they would have to verify her story before they would lend the so-called 'Knothole' any aid. They were so accustomed to continual assault and infiltration that they assumed the entire world was after them. 

Zephyer returned to her room and fell into an exhausted sleep. Extended interrogation was grueling, as it was as if they were picking her brain with a magnifying glass. Her hopes were not quite dashed. Spike's story would match hers. Surely they would believe him ...! 

* * *

They remained in the stronghold two weeks. In that time, Zephyer saw Spike three times. The first time was through a window in the medical ward, where the porcupine lay in a bed with his head and neck bandaged, a cast on his arm, and eyes bright as he talked to his mother, who was seated in the chair beside his bed. She was sewing something with deft metallic fingers. She and her son appeared so joyful together that Zephyer turned away with a pang. He had regained what she had lost beyond all hope of recovery. 

The second time she was allowed to talk to him in his hospital bed for fifteen minutes. Spike was full of news about his parents, of how much older they looked now, that his dad was one of the second-in- command now, when back in Mobitropolis he had been a bookkeeper. Zephyer asked him if he had been questioned. "Yeah," said Spike, face darkening suddenly. "They didn't belive me. I'll bet they think we're some kind of spy unit." Then he was off again in other tales of how great his mother and father were. 

Zephyer came away from their meeting with a deeper pang. Not only did she now have the guilt of perhaps being the reason for the Robians' distrust, she also had to deal with the envy and grief of seeing her friend rejoice over his family. She couldn't begrudge him his happiness--she would feel the same way--but it was the constant, ever-present knowledge that she could never see her own family again. 

The third time she saw Spike, it was for an evening's chat in his parents' quarters. Spike wore his arm in a sling now, and his elation had not abated. Mr. and Mrs. Quill were there as well, and interested in talking to their son's companion. It was a pleasant visit, but it only made Zephyer even more unhappy. She had been as close to her parents, especially her father, as Spike was to his. 

She cried herself to sleep that night. 

* * *

"Get up, Miss Zephyer, you're leaving today." 

Zephyer sat up in bed and blinked. "Huh? What? Going where?" 

"Why, home of course," said Sheila the goat, looking around the door. "Back to your village. Better dress up warm--it's cold out." 

The echidna fumbled into her coat and snow pants, trying to prop her eyelids open. What time was it? The fortress was quiet, as if it were the middle of the night. She checked her wrist, remembered she was robotized and didn't have a watch any more, and leaned out her door to check the clock in the hall. 4:30. Good grief, the sun wouldn't be up for another five hours. She retreated back into her room, packed her backpack (retrieved from the cave for examination), sat on her bed and waited. 

Before long there came a tap on the door. It opened and Bern the robotized fox looked in. "You up?" he said gruffly. "Good. Let's go." Zephyer hoisted her backpack and followed him out. 

As it turned out, Spike was not returning to Knothole. He would remain in Stonecleft for insurance while Bern went with Zephyer to see if Knothole and a derobotizer were fact or fiction. 

They stepped out into the dim blue world. The cold struck them like ice water in the face. Zephyer exhaled steam into the air and felt her dislike of the cold return full force. While the fortress was chilly, it was not unbearably cold. Bern locked the door behind them, said shortly, "Let's go," and strode away into the pre-dawn darkness. Zephyer followed without a word. 

If the hike up the mountain had been strenuous, it was nothing compared to the hike down. The fox rolled along at a tremendous pace, able to walk for hours and hours without rest. Zephyer couldn't match him and toiled along in the rear, gasping for breath and sweating under her metal plating. Their robotization types were different. Bern was 90% machine and operated like one. Zephyer was 90% machine, but a machine that relied heavily on her natural muscles and not battery power. 

Bern saw this and said nothing. He had intentionally set an impossible pace to test whether Zephyer was really a bio-mech, as she claimed to be. After two days, he decided she was. She was physically unable to keep up, and at night as so tired she nodded off before she finished eating. 

They descended the mountain in glorious, blinding sunlight that glittered on the untouched snow. Zephyer was disappointed to find that by the time the sun rose, they had left the fortress behind. She had wanted to see it from the outside. They hiked, camped and hiked again for a week, leaving the mountains behind. Once they struck the valley, Zephyer was surprised to find Bern turning south. "Do you know where we're going?" she asked incredulously. 

"I know where Robotropolis is," he replied. "You're going to show me your village from there." 

Rebuffed by his harsh tone, the echidna fell silent. "He still thinks I'm a spy," she thought with humiliation. Even her trip up with Spike had been more fun than this. 

They saw no wolves, although they heard the pack howling several times. Lobo had great respect for the Robians, and he didn't want to eat Zephyer THAT badly. Zephyer wondered if Robo Knux had paid him with a moose or something, and wondered what the 'valuble information' had been. Certainly not anything good. 

One night, sitting before the campfire and trying not to stare at Bern's glowing orange eyes, Zephyer told her companion of what the robot had told her. The fox didn't reply for a long time, an Zephyer had given up all hope of an answer when he said, "For a Mecha bot to be up here is a bad sign. I'm afraid this year will be a bad one." He looked at Zephyer. She gazed at the solid metal-plated face, trying to read it. He seemed to be thinking of something he wanted to tell her. He looked into the campfire and said, "A week before you arrived, we had a visitor at Stonecleft. I don't know who she was ... or WHAT she was. She blackmailed us." 

"What for?" 

"She wanted us to help her attack something called the Floating Island. When we refused, the threatened to reveal our location to Dr. Robotnik. As you know, that is what we fear most." 

Zephyer blanched. The Floating Island? Who in the world would want to enlist the Robians to ...? But Bern was continuing. "We have decided to abandon the fortress this spring. Too many outsiders know its location, including that girl and the Mecha bot. But we don't know where we'll go." 

Zephyer opened her mouth to mention the derobotizer, then shut it again. It just wasn't worth it. Let him see for himself. 

As the miles fell away behind them, Zephyer realized she had missed Knothole. She had missed Sonic and his never-dimming spirits, Tails with his smile for everyone, Serena for her companionship, Slasher ... Why had Slasher never come when Spike had blown the whistle? The thought hit her like a thunderbolt. She had not had time to think about it at the time, and afterward she had simply forgotten. Slasher always came ... what if something had happened? A thousand worries rolled together and collided in her head. 

At last they came to a wide plain, white with snow. The ruins of Robotropolis poked up in a mass miles away on their right. The meadows! Almost home! "This way," said Zephyer confidently, leading the way across the plain and into the trees on their left. 

The smell of woodsmoke. It struck Zephyer suddenly that she had smelled that same smell when she and Sonic had arrived in the village a year before. She glanced at Bern and wished he were Spike, so she might end this adventure the way she had begun it, as she had with Sonic. But this was a different year, a different adventure. Zephyer hurried toward where she knew the village lay. 

Tails was standing in a tree, breaking off twigs and dropping them to Sonic below, and caught sight of the approaching figures. "Hey!" he exclaimed shrilly. "Here comes Zephyer, and there's a robot with her!" 

A large portion of the village turned out to meet the prodigal. Where had Zephyer been? Had she found food? Where was Spike, and who was that with her? 

Zephyer pushed through the crowd, ignoring the buzzing questions, looking for Sally or Slasher. She saw in the villagers faces already the first ghostly touches of malnourishment. Good grief, had they really been gone that long? Everywhere she looked were hollow eyes and dull fur, all gloss and sparkle gone. A cold knot of dread formed in her stomach. If the Robians would not help ... She looked at Bern, following a few paces behind her. Although Knothole was familiar with Robians from long dealings with Robotropolis escapees, no one went near Bern. One look from his orange eyes was enough to send the boldest villager cringing away. 

Ah, there was Sally, just coming out of her hut. Zephyer made a beeline for her. 

"Zephyer!" said the squirrel in amazement. "You're back! Where did--" She broke off as she caught sight of Zephyer's forbidding companion. 

"Sal, this is Bern, a Robian fox," said Zephyer. "Bern, this is Sally, leader of our band." 

"Princess Sally?" said the robot, stopping dead in his tracks and staring at her. 

"Yes," Sally replied. "At your service." 

"At you and yours," said Bern, dropping to one knee and bowing his head. "I am at your service, your Majesty." 

"Arise," said Sally, not in the least perturbed by this display. Indeed, she seemed rather amused by it. "Come inside, if you please. We have things to discuss." Sally shot a look at Zephyer, who meekly followed her indoors. Better keep her fingers crossed now ... 

But it all worked out in the end. Bern was shown the derobotizer in Eagle's Nest, and to prove to the other Robians it worked, they derobotized his head and right arm. He turned out to be a nice-looking grey fox, if not a little matted in places from the metal. In return for taking in the Robians when they evacuated the fortress, Bern pledged their entire food surplus, excluding next year's seed. 

The Freedom Fighters sent a crew and a hover transport back to the stronghold with him, as the village was in desperate need of food, any kind of food. They returned three days later, the transport loaded so full it could barely hover. When it entered the village and the doors opened, who should bound out but Spike. He raced around until he found Zephyer. His parents would be the first to use the derobotizer, and he was euphoric. 

Zephyer sought out Slasher once everything had died down. The big raptor had gotten over her illness, but her leg was still in a splint. The big raptor told her of the trap, and Zephyer remembered the night she and Spike had heard the wolves fighting something on the creekbank. "Never fails," said Slasher wryly. "If I had just called your names I would have found you." 

Although Operation SQ had succeeded and Spike had been reunited with his family, Zephyer was unhappy. It grew more and more pronounced as winter melted toward spring. The echidna became depressed and glum with homesickness, and nothing seemed to cheer her up. 

Thus it was that the chao came to the village not a day too soon. But that's another story. 

The End


End file.
